CORNELL    STORIES 


CORNELL  STORIES 


BY 
JAMES   GARDNER   SANDERSON 


Copyright,  1898 
BY  CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


SSntoersttg 
JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE,  U.S.A. 


To   B.    D.  T. 


1523719 


Contents 


PAGE 


THE  WOOING  OF  MELVILLE  R.  COHYDON  .     .  3 

LITTLE  TYLER ^ 

COMPANY  D's  REVENGE 121 

ONE  WHO  DIDN'T 185 

ONE  WHO  DID 205 

THE  ELDER  Miss  ARCHLEN 225 


Cornell   Stories 


THE  WOOING   OF  MELVILLE  R. 
CORYDON 

J.  E.  THORPE,  R.  T., 

RHO  TAU  LODGE,  ITHACA,  N.  Y. 

NEW  YORK,  June  14,  189-. 

DEAR  JIMMY,  —  Don't  faint  with  the 
sudden  shock  of  receiving  a  letter  from 
me.  The  daring  with  which  I  bound  thusly 
into  the  arena,  as  a  competitor  in  the  art 
of  polite  letter-writing,  explains  itself  when  I 
tell  you  of  a  wonderful  fish  I  have  been  trying 
to  land  for  you  all  summer.  He  is  a  young 
and  good-looking  fish  who  plays  baseball  and 
football,  being  better  at  the  latter  than  the 
former,  I  believe,  and  does  stunts  on  a  couple 
of  musical  instruments  also.  His  name  is  Mel 
ville  R.  Corydon,  and  his  father  is  R.  F. 
Corydon,  one  of  our  leading  bankers  here,  and 

very  prominent,  socially. 
3 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

Young  Corydon  is  very  popular  with  his 
crowd  here,  and  although  I  have  not  been 
able  to  see  much  of  him  I  have  improved  the 
opportunities  which  have  chanced  my  way,  and 
have  thrown  R.  T.  into  him  in  chunks  as  large 
as  your  head,  so  that  I  believe  his  one  desire 
in  life  is  to  join  the  society  that  turns  out  hot 
men  —  such  as  you  and  I,  for  instance. 

I  do  not' believe  the  fellows  would  make  the 
least  mistake  in  taking  the  boy,  as  he  has  the 
right  kind  of  stuff  in  him,  and  ought  to  make 
a  star.  You  want  to  get  after  him  hard,  I 
think ;  but  I  do  not  anticipate  much  trouble  if 
you  work  him  in  the  right  way.  Any  influ 
ence  I  may  be  able  to  wield  down  here  is,  of 
course,  at  your  service. 

Corydon  arrives  on  the  noon  train  to-morrow 
—  D.  L.  &  W.     Some  of  you  ought  to  go  up 
to  the  switch.     Love  to  all  the  boys. 
Yours  in  R.  T., 

MYRON  J.  PRITCHARD. 

Why  the  deuce  don't  some  of  you  fellows 
write  occasionally? 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

FORTUNATUS    CONSTANTINE    WORKMAN, 

BETA  CHI  HOUSE,  ITHACA,  N.  Y. 

JERSEY  CITY,  June  14,  189-. 

MY  DEAR  SON,  —  I  enclose  your  June  draft. 
This  will  be  all  I  shall  send  for  Senior  week, 
as  both  your  mother  and  I  feel  that  you  are 
spending  more  than  is  necessary  this  term.  At 
all  events,  you  are  spending  more  than  I  ever 
dreamed  of  having  when  I  was  your  age;  and 
while  I  agree  with  you,  to  some  extent,  when 
you  say  "times  have  changed,  and  are  con 
tinually  changing,"  I  would  suggest  that  when 
you  run  short  you  draw  on  that  "continual 
change  "  instead  of  upon  me.  I  shall  answer 
no  further  letters  in  which  you  ask  for  more. 

Why  do  you  need  a  hat  box  ?  When  I  was 
a  boy  we  wore  our  silk  hats.  I  hardly  see  the 
advantage  of  buying  an  eight-dollar  hat  and 
carrying  it  "around  in  a  box.  However,  I  can 
talk  with  you  about  that  later. 

I  hope  you  have  succeeded  in  your  examina 
tions  this  term.  I  do  not  like  the  thought  of  a 
son  of  mine  being  conditioned.  Acknowledge 
draft  at  once.  Aff 'tly,  FATHER. 

5 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

P.  S.  I  understand  that  young  Corydon,  the 
son  of  R.  E.  Corydon  who  is  part  of  the  Co.  in 
R.  F.  Corydon  and  Co.,  bankers,  of  New  York, 
is  going  to  take  his  entrance  examinations  for 
Cornell,  in  Ithaca,  to-morrow.  Your  mother 
and  I  both  think  it  would  be  a  nice  thing  for 
you  to  look  him  up  and  pay  him  some  little 
attention  for  the  sake  of  the  friendship  between 
the  families.  He  seems  like  a  nice  boy,  and  is 
very  quiet,  and  a  hard  worker.  He  is  presi 
dent  of  our  Christian  Endeavor  Society,  and 
has  recently  been  helping  Mr.  Lee,  who,  you 
will  remember,  is  at  present  superintendent  of 
our  Sunday-school.  F. 

WM.    A.    HlLDRETH, 

CHI  DELTA  SIGMA  HOUSE, 

CORNELL  UNIVERSITY,  ITHACA,  N.  Y. 

Corydon,  son  of  R.  A.  Corydon,  of  R.  F. 
Corydon  &  Co.,  arrives  on  noon  train  to-mor 
row.  Good  fellow,  but  quite  sporty.  Rush 
hard.  Have  written. 

PIKE. 
6 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

On  a  certain  sunshiny  morning  in  June  the 
gray-coated  postman,  looking  not  unlike  a 
Roman  charioteer  in  civilized  garb,  as  he  stood 
in  the  back  of  his  two-wheeled  delivery  wagon, 
left  these  two  letters  at  their  proper  destina 
tions.  Five  minutes  later  a  snub-nosed  boy, 
wearing  the  red-corded  cap  of  the  Western 
Union,  shuffled  across  the  piazza  of  another 
fraternity  house,  pointed  with  a  smudgy  finger 
to  a  certain  line  in  his  yellow-leafed  booklet, 
received  his  signature,  and  shuffled  away. 

Among  the  Greek  letter  societies  at  Cornell, 
Rho  Tau,  Beta  Chi,  and  Chi  Delta  Sigma  stood 
high  among  the  leaders.  As  the  last  roster  in 
cluded  about  thirty-one  societies,  the  positions 
of  the  big  three  were  most  enviable.  Their 
lists  invariably  contained  the  names  of  men 
most  prominent  in  university  affaire;  and  the 
far-spread  fame  of  these  names,  coupled  with 
the  initials  of  their  society,  brought  many  enter 
ing  freshmen  and  many  more  soon-to-be-entering 
sub-freshmen  to  college  with  quickened  heart 
beats  and  a  deep,  unspoken  determination  to 
7 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

join  (if  they  were  lucky  enough  to  be  asked)  the 
society  whose  pin  X,  the  football  captain,  wore, 
or  the  one  to  which  Y,  the  funny  man  on  the 
Glee  Club,  belonged,  or  that  of  which  Z,  who 
made  Phi  Beta  Kappa,  was  a  member.  The 
tacit  acknowledgment  by  the  university  at  large 
of  the  big  threes'  superiority  increased  their 
strength,  and  year  after  year,  with  the  going 
of  seniors,  the  making  of  alumni,  and  the  com 
ing  of  freshmen,  they  grew  in  power,  until  now, 
between  them  and  the  others,  there  was  little 
rivalry  in  the  matters  of  rushing. 

This  was  the  relation  in  which  three  stood  to 
twenty-eight.  Unfortunately  this  power-born 
peace  did  not  extend  to  the  big  threes'  rela 
tions  with  each  other.  Among  themselves  the 
rivalry  was  intense.  One  year  the  Rho  Taus 
would  succeed  in  winning  a  freshman  who  had 
been  offered  an  invitation  to  each  of  the  other 
two.  The  next  year,  or,  possibly,  during  the 
same  season,  the  Beta  Chis  would  bid  and 
pledge  a  man  in  the  very  teeth  of  the  fiercest 
rushing  of  Rho  Tau  and  Chi  Delta  Sigma. 
8 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  /?.  Corydon 

The  next  desirable  man  might  fall  under  the 
fascinations  of  the  Chi  Delts,  and  so  the  see 
saw  went.  Now  one  would  triumph,  now 
another,  and  many  a  freshman  who  had  been 
dined,  theatred,  driven,  and  generally  made  to 
feel  that  each  crowd  was  the  finest  set  of 
fellows  ever  born,  and  he  the  finest  of  them 
all,  has  sat  down  after  it  was  all  over,  and  his 
choice  was  made,  and  wondered  why  he  was 
being  sworn  at  and  ordered  about  with  so 
much  less  consideration  than  he  had  been  led 
to  believe  he  deserved. 

Competition,  in  rushing,  almost  assumes  the 
ear-marks  of  a  science  when  three  strong  socie 
ties  are  in  the  field.  Attention  is  given  to  even 
the  minutest  details.  If  a  freshman  who  is 
l>eing  rushed  is  an  athlete,  athletics  are  the 
topic,  and  'varsity  sweaters  are  thrown  carelessly 
around  the  house.  If  the  man  is  of  a  religious 
turn  of  mind,  hymns  are  played  and  "cussing" 
suppressed.  If  he  leans  toward  beer  and  chorus- 
girls,  beer  and  chorus-girls  are  put  before  him. 
His  slightest  wish  and  inclination  is  consulted 
n 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

—  until  he  is  pledged.  He  is  met  by  a  rep 
resentative  of  each  society,  invited  to  their 
houses,  and,  in  the  guise  of  an  honored  guest, 
given  a  chance  to  inspect  and  be  inspected.  If 
a  society  decides  favorably,  no  pains  are  spared 
to  impress  him  with  the  superiority  of  their  par 
ticular  men  and  their  particular  society.  In 
due  time  he  receives  a  bid,  which  is  college 
slang  for  an  offer  of  election.  The  complica 
tions  arising  when  three  or  four  men  are  being 
rushed  by  as  many  societies  are  often  intricate 
and  require  the  exercise  of  unlimited  tact  and 
diplomacy. 

Therefore  it  fell  out  on  this  sunny  summer 
morning  that  excitement  reigned  supreme  in 
the  houses  of  Rho  Tau,  Beta  Chi,  and  Chi  Delta 
Sigma. 

As  J.  E.  Thorpe  read  his  mail  his  eyes 
danced;  and,  calling  his  senior  classmates 
together,  he  read  them  the  letter. 

"See  here,  fellows,"  said  he,  "from  what 
Pritchard  says,  we  want  that  man." 

"Pity  he  didn't  tell  us  before,"  said  Fair- 
10 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Cory  don 

banks.     "  We  could  have  done  some  preliminary 
work. " 

"I  rather  guess  we  don't  need  it,"  replied 
Thorpe.  "  He  says  the  boy  has  a  strong  leaning 
our  way  already." 

"  We  need  another  athlete  and  musician,  if  he 
is  a  good  fellow,"  chimed  in  Stark.  "Jimmy, 
had  n't  you  and  Torresdale  better  go  up  to  the 
switch  to-morrow  ?  It 's  not  likely  if  the  man 
is  such  a  '  star '  that  the  Chi  Delts  or  Beta  Chis 
don't  know  about  his  coming.  If  they  do,  they 
will  be  there  also.  We  don't  want  to  take 
chances  with  those  people." 

"Right,  O  Molly,"  answered  Thorpe. 
"Bobby,  we'll  be  there." 

"  We  '11  show  him  our  football  man,  eh, 
Jimmy  ?  "  crooned  Blake,  idly  flattening  Tones- 
dale's  nose  with  his  tennis  racket  as  he  lay 
sprawling  on  the  divan. 

Torresdale  rose  in  his  might  and  sat  heavily 
on  his  tormentor.  Then  he  said,  "And  the 
Glue  Club  man.  Sing,  Blakey.  Sing,  or  I  '11 
yank  -  !  " 

11 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Cory  don 

"  Ow-wow-iyi  —  oh !  Hully  Gee,  you  fat 
lobster!  Lemme  go!"  cried  Blake,  clutching 
wildly  at  his  hair  and  scrambling  to  his  feet. 

"And  the  Glue  Club  man,"  repeated  Torres- 
dale,  with  a  satisfied  sigh,  as  he  fell  back  once 
more  to  cushioned  ease. 

"He  is  musical,"  said  Stark.  "Remember 
that,  fellows ;  and  —  perhaps  Blake  had  better 
not  sing  while  he  is  in  the  house." 

"  We  '11  take  him  to  call  on  the  three  prettiest 
girls  in  town,"  suggested  Blake,  ignoring  Stark's 
last  remark. 

"  Well,  anyway  we  '11  rush  him,"  said  Thorpe, 
decisively.  "  We  '11  rush  him  hard.  Therefore 
it  behooves  all  you  fellows  to  be  here  when 
Bobby  and  I  bring  him  up.  Somebody  tell  the 
freshmen.  Let's  eat." 

"Um -huh,"  said  Puggy  Workman  from  his 
chair  by  the  window,  as  he  unfolded  his  father's 
letter.  "  Same  thing.  I  wonder  if  I  really  am 
spending  too  much.  Hat  box,  —  used  to  wear 
his  hat,  too.  Dear,  dear!  I  suppose  he  did. 
12 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

Wore  a  frock  with  red  morocco  slippers  and  a 
polo  cap,  too,  I  dare  say.  Ah,  well —  He  's 
the  best  father  I  ever  had.  Um  —  um  —  um 
—  Hello!  —  say,  fellows,  listen  to  this,"  and 
Puggy  read  aloud  the  last  few  lines  of  his 
letter.  The  crowd  around  the  table  looked 
interested. 

"Do  you  know  him?"  asked  Hollister,  rather 
dubiously. 

"No,"  replied  Puggy,  "I  don't.  You  see,  I 
have  lived  in  New  York  with  my  uncle  most  of 
my  life,  and  don't  know  very  many  Jersey  City 
people.  But  I  know  his  rep.  at  home,  and  I 
know  his  mother.  He  is  mighty  well  thought 
of,  and  is  as  bright  as  a  whip." 

"  Has  he  a  he-mother?  "  queried  Wilbur,  with 
polite  surprise. 

"  Do  you  know  whether  he  is  obtrusively  good, 
Puggy?"  asked  Ferris.  "That  letter  seems  to 
convey  that  impression.  If  he  is,  Hollister's 
nervous  system  will  simply  be  ruined,  you 
know." 

"Oh,  come  inside,  fellows,"  said  Puggy, 
13 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

tersely.  "What  are  we  going  to  do?  Shall 
we  look  at  him  or  let  him  slide  ?  It  seems  to 
me  that  we  'd  better  look  him  up,  at  least.  A 
good  man  won't  hurt  us.  Moreover, "  and  Puggy 
pointed  an  emphatic  forefinger  at  the  offending 
Wilbur,  who  was  seated  on  the  table,  nursing 
his  knee,  "  the  Chi  Belts  and  the  Rho  Taus  will 
be  after  him,  for  they  both  have  alumni  in 
Jersey  City.  If  the  Chi  Belts  can  stand  any 
one  who  is  good  —  that  is,  pious  you  know, 
—  there  will  be  a  hot  rush  between  them.  Now 
what?  Shall  we  give  them  a  whirl  or  not? 
We  shall  have  to  be  careful  at  first,  you  know, 
if  we  do.  No  cussing,  or  anything  like  that, 
until  we  know  how  he  takes  such  things." 

"We  might  look  at  him,  just  to  show  our 
friends  who  we  are, "  suggested  Hollister.  "  But 
if  we  touch  it,  we  don't  want  any  half-way 
business.  It  must  be  good,  hard  rushing,  or 
nothing.  What  do  you  fellows  say  ?  " 

"We  ought  to  have  a  man  in  Jersey  City," 
said  Ferris.     "  The  Rhos  and  the  Chi  Belts  both 
have  a  pull  there  through  their  alumni.     I  say 
14 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

let  "s  rush  him.  Nobody  is  going  to  make  us 
take  him  if  he  is  on  the  reform  platform." 

"Well,  gentlemen,  step  up,  step  up, "called 
Puggy.  "  Who  will  go  up  to  the  switch  with 
me  to-morrow?  " 

Hollister  volunteered,  and  Wilbur  offered  to 
teach  the  rest  hymns  while  they  were  waiting. 
He  said  he  knew  some  excellent  hymns  which 
sounded  immense  played  in  rag  time. 

"Hi,  there,  you  oldest  senior  in  the  bunch," 
drawled  Punk  Hildreth,  as  he  strolled  into 
Fordyce's  room,  where  the  latter  sat  wrestling 
with  his  long  overdue  thesis.  "  Call  out  your 
dogs  of  war.  Turn  loose  thy  flowing  locks,  and 
let  thy  face,  now  sicklied  o'er  with  the  pale  cast 
of  thought,  brighten  with  the  glow  of  battle." 

"What's  the  matter  now?"  asked  Fordyce, 
pushing  back  the  papers  before  him  with  a  sigh 
of  relief,  and  looking  up  at  Hildreth  with  a 
smile. 

"Jack,  you  have  an  extremely  sicklied-o'er 
face  to-day,"  replied  his  friend,  looking  at  him 
16 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

critically.     "  I  presume  that,  laboring  under  the 
disadvantages  that  such  a  face  naturally  —  " 

"Is  that  all  you  disturbed  me  for?"  asked 
Fordyce,  reaching  for  a  shoe. 

"Let  me  think,"  said  Punk,  edging  in  front 
of  the  mirror.  "No,  it  wasn't  —  really.  I  've 
a  telegram  for  you.  But  throw  your  old  shoe 
if  you  want  to." 

"Let's  look." 

Hildreth  threw  the  despatch  into  his  lap. 

Fordyce  read  it  and  grinned.  "Old  Pikey, 
eh?  — '  Good  fellow,  but  quite  sporty.'  We  '11 
look  him  up,  and  treat  him  accordingly.  Like 
Pikey,  was  n't  it,  to  run  us  against  a  proposition 
of  that  sort?" 

"He  says,  '  Have  written,'  "  said  Hildreth, 
sitting  carelessly  on  the  title-page  of  the  thesis. 
"  That  means  that  he  intends  specifying  the 
particular  way  in  which  Mr.  Corydon  likes  his 
alcohol  prepared." 

"We  can't  stand  a  man  who  sets  too  hot  a 
pace,  "said  Fordyce,  biting  his  pen  meditatively, 

"He  '11  run  with  the  sporty  freshman." 
16 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

"Or  you." 

"Humph!" 

"  Will  you  go  up  to  the  switch  with  me  to 
morrow  ?  " 

"Noon  train?  "  asked  Hildreth. 

"Yes." 

"Yes." 

"As  you  go  out  put  a  notice  in  the  hall  so 
the  fellows  will  know  he  is  coming,"  observed 
Fordyce,  rolling  his  classmate  off  his  thesis,  and 
gathering  the  loose  sheets  together. 

Hildreth  mussed  his  hair,  and  ran  to  the 
door.  He  stood  on  the  sill  with  one  arm 
raised  as  a  shield  to  prospective  shoes,  and 
said,  plaintively,  — 

"Jack,  that  telegram  came  collect.  It's 
really  a  rushing  expense,  you  know —  ?" 

Biff!  went  the  shoe  against  the  door- jamb. 
Punk  dodged  and  walked  away  with  a  quiet 
sigh. 

The  three-car  train  came  panting  and  puffing 
up  the  steep  grade  of  the  second  switch. 
2  17 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

It  was  four  days  before  the  beginning  of  Senior 
week,  too  soon  for  the  crowd  to  be  either  com 
ing  or  going.  One  or  two  travelling  men,  a 
couple  of  farmers'  wives,  three  or  four  Ithaca 
business-men,  and  three  sub-freshmen,  each  of 
whom  was  wondering  to  what  class  at  Cornell 
the  others  belonged,  were  scattered  along  the 
seats  of  the  second  car. 

The  old  conductor,  on  the  lookout  for  fares 
from  Caroline,  came  walking  through  from  the 
smoker.  The  conductor  of  the  noon  train  of 
that  particular  run  has  accumulated  the  priv 
ileges  of  seventeen  years'  steady  work,  and  had 
seen  the  waking  and  growth  of  class  after  class, 
and  the  coming  of  many  vacations.  He  paused 
before  one  of  the  sub-freshmen  as  one  who  has 
a  right. 

"  Examinations  ? "  he  asked,  with  a  kindly 
smile. 

The  sub-freshman  hesitated  for  the  fraction 
of  a  second.     He  wanted  to  lie  and  indignantly 
deny  his  newness,  but  a  glance  at  the  old  con 
ductor's  face  changed  his  mind. 
18 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

"Yes,  "he  said. 

"  You  '11  see  the  university  buildings  in  half 
a  minute  more,"  said  the  conductor,  and  passed 
on  through  the  train. 

The  boy  flattened  his  face  against  the  window- 
pane.  As  the  train  rolled  out  from  between 
two  hills  he  saw  a  farmhouse,  then  a  cluster  of 
smaller  houses,  and  then,  without  a  note  of 
warning,  the  cars  jerked  around  a  curve,  and 
across  the  valley  the  grandeur  and  beauty  of 
the  campus  lay  before  him.  For  a  moment  he 
held  his  breath.  He  was  conscious  of  a  queer 
little  thrill  as  the  curtain  thus  rose  on  the  first 
scene  in  his  college  life.  He  had  never  even 
seen  a  picture  of  the  campus,  and  he  looked  out 
eagerly  at  the  buildings  around  which  and  be 
tween  whose  walls  there  lay  such  a  wealth  of 
sweet,  untasted  mystery.  He  looked  down  at 
the  town  clinging  to  the  hillside  and  straggling 
over  the  lowlands.  He  looked  at  the  lake 
winding  its  rippling  bends  and  turnings  into 
the  dimness  of  the  hazy  forest  banks,  and  then 
he  looked  at  all  three,  and  sighed  contentedly. 
19 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

Just  then  the  break-shoes  squeaked  and 
screeched,  the  exhaust-pipes  whistled,  and  the 
train  came  to  a  stop.  The  car  door  opened, 
and  two  students  entered  quickly.  The  sub 
looked  up,  and  his  heart  leaped  within  him,  for 
he  had  noticed  that  both  wore  sweaters  with 
large  white  C's  decorating  the  breasts,  and  that 
on  the  red,  short-visored  cap  of  one  there  ap 
peared  the  cabalistic  letters  C.U.B.B.C.  worked 
into  a  monogram.  From  the  sweater  and  the 
cap  he  judged  them,  correctly,  'varsity  men,  and 
he  watched  them  out  of  the  corners  of  his  eyes. 

He  tried  to  look  as  if  he  were  only  going  to 
Ithaca  to  visit  friends,  and  succeeded  in  stamp 
ing  himself  so  unmistakably  sub  that  Torres - 
dale  and  Thorpe  nudged  each  other,  and  bore 
quickly  down  upon  him.  The  sub  saw  them 
looking  at  him,  and  looked  out  of  the  window. 
His  ideas  of  hazing  were  vague,  but  he  had 
heard  that  the  slightest  freshness  was  fatal,  and 
not  knowing  whether  it  was  fresh  to  stare,  awe 
struck,  at  a  'varsity  man,  he  looked  out  of  the 
window.  The  men  stopped  in  front  of  him. 
20 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  began  Thorpe,  pleas 
antly,  "but  is  your  name  Corydon?" 

The  boy  turned  suddenly,  "I  —  I  beg  your 
pardon?"  said  he. 

"  Is  your  name  Corydon  ?  "  repeated  Thorpe. 

"Yes,"  said  the  sub,  nervously. 

"  My  name  's  Thorpe  —  Jim  Thorpe.  Myron 
Pritchard  wrote  me  you  were  coming  to-day, 
and  asked  me  to  put  you  on  to  the  ropes  a  bit. 
It 's  rather  hard  for  a  new  man  at  first,  you 
know,  unless  he  knows  some  one,"  and  Mr. 
Thorpe  smiled  sympathetically. 

"Oh!  —  oh,  yes,"  said  Corydon,  taking  the 
offered  hand.  "Mr.  Pritchard  has  spoken  of 
you  to  me  very  often.  You're  a  —  a  —  you 
belong  to  his  society,  don't  you?" 

"Yes,  I'm  a  Rho  Tau,"  answered  Thorpe, 
smiling.  "I  don't  blame  you  for  not  remem 
bering  ;  there  are  so  many  of  them,  you  know. 
Oh,  by  the  way  —  I  want  you  to  know  the  cap 
tain  of  our  next  year's  football  team.  You 
play,  I  understand." 

Corydon  blushed  as  Torresdale  shook  hands, 
21 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

and  said,  in  his  big  voice,  "I  heard  some 
thing  of  your  playing  while  you  were  at  St. 
Paul's,  Corydon.  You  must  be  sure  and  try 
for  the  team  next  fall.  I  '11  be  very  glad  to 
give  you  any  points  I  can,  if  you  care  for 
them." 

"Maybe  you  can  dine  with  us  to-night," 
Thorpe  broke  in  before  Corydon  could  stammer 
his  thanks.  "Torry,  here,  is  a  Rho  Tau,  too, 
you  know,  and  you  fellows  can  gas  football  to 
your  hearts'  content." 

"Why  —  why,  thank  you,"  said  Corydon, 
rather  dazed  at  this  suddenness ;  "  I  think  I  'd 
better  —  " 

"I  '11  tell  you,"  interrupted  Torresdale,  "you 
come  with  us,  and  we  '11  fix  you  out  at  your 
hotel.  Then  come  up  to  dine  and  spend  the 
evening.  How  does  that  strike  you  ? "  and 
Torresdale  laid  his  hand  familiarly  on  the  sub's 
shoulder. 

"I  should  like  it  very  much,"  said  the  sub, 
"only  I  don't  want  to  bother  you  fellows." 

"Oh,    nonsense,"    said     Thorpe,     laughing. 
22 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

"We  '11  tell  you  when  we  are  being  bothered. 
Don't  worry." 

Torresdale  echoed  the  laugh,  and  sat  down 
beside  him,  for  he  had  seen  two  hostile  figures 
in  the  distance.  Thorpe  had  just  time  to  slide 
into  the  seat  ahead  as  the  door  opened  and 
Hollister  and  Puggy  Workman  entered. 

Puggy  came  down  the  aisle,  looking  sharply 
from  side  to  side.  When  they  reached  the  first 
sub-freshman  he  bent  over  and  asked  him  a 
question.  He  shook  his  head  and  they  walked 
on.  The  second  was  still  looking  out  of  the 
window  at  the  campus  when  Hollister  tapped 
him  on  the  shoulder.  Torresdale  and  Thorpe 
chuckled  as  they  left  him  and  stood  looking 
hopelessly  around  the  car.  Suddenly  Puggy 
caught  sight  of  the  strange  face  wedged  in 
between  the  big  guard  and  the  window,  and, 
pulling  himself  together,  walked  briskly  toward 
them,  closely  followed  by  Hollister. 

"Hello,  Jimmy!  How  are  you,  Torresdale?" 
he  said,  with  his  blandest  smile,  and,  without 
giving  the  two  men  a  chance  to  recover  from 

23 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Cory  don 

their  astonishment  at  the  boldness  of  this  move, 
dropped  into  the  vacant  seat  behind  them,  and, 
leaning  over,  said  in  a  confidential  tone  to  the 
sub,  — 

"Isn't  your  name  Corydon?" 

The  sub  looked  up,  startled,  at  this  second 
self-introduced  young  man.  He  had  thought 
that  he  was  unknown  up  here,  but  already, 
before  he  was  off  the  train,  here  were  four 
fellows  who  evidently  knew  who  he  was.  The 
first  instance  he  could  understand;  but  what 
did  this  second  mean?  He  turned  with  an  odd 
look  at  Torresdale,  sitting  grimly  at  his  side, 
and  answered. 

"I  thought  so, "said  Puggy.  "I  used  to  live 
in  your  town.  My  father  does  now.  You  know 
him,  I  think  —  Workman  ?  " 

The  sub's  face  lighted  up. 

"Yes,  I  know  him,"  he  said.  "I  am  very 
glad  to  meet  you,  Mr.  Workman.  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  knowing  your  sister  quite  well." 

"Is  that  so,"  said  Puggy,  heartily.     "I  am 
glad  to  hear  it.     How  is  she  ?  " 
24 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

He  knew  there  was  something  wrong,  as  he 
was  an  only  child,  but  he  preferred  to  defer  all 
explanations. 

"Why  —  er — "said  Corydon,  growing  rather 
red,  "she  died  last  summer." 

"Oh!  that  one,"  said  Puggy,  taken  aback 
somewhat.  "  Yes,  she  did.  That 's  so  —  it 
was  very  sad,  you  know.  Poor  thing!  " 

The  sub  looked  rather  astonished.  "Had 
you  two  sisters?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  replied  Puggy,  unblushingly. 
"  One  you  never  met.  I  —  but  I  beg  your 
pardon,  Hollister,  old  man.  Let  me  present 
Mr.  Corydon." 

"  Mr.  Corydon,  I  am  very  glad  to  meet  you. 
Glad  to  see  you  have  picked  out  the  proper 
college,"  said  Hollister,  shaking  hands  vigor 
ously.  "  Workman  told  me  you  were  coming, 
and  we  thought  we  would  drop  down  and  meet 
you,  just  to  see  if  we  could  do  anything,  you 
know.  Stranger,  you  know.  Can't  you  come 
and  let  us  look  up  a  room  for  you  this  after 
noon?" 

25 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

"Thank  you,  — thank  you  very  much,"  said 
the  sub;  "but  I  've  accepted  Mr.  Thorpe's  offer 
for  this  afternoon.  He  —  " 

"Come  and  dine  with  us  then,"  suggested 
Puggy. 

"Why —  I've  promised  Mr.  Torresdale," 
said  Corydon,  with  an  embarrassed  laugh.  The 
situation  was  a  trifle  strained. 

"Drop  in  and  see  us  to-night,"  hazarded 
Hollister.  "  We  'd  like  to  have  you  meet  the 
men  in  our  fraternity.  Just  ask  for  either 
Workman  or  me.  Torresdale  will  show  you 
where  our  house  is,  I  am  sure." 

"Thank  you, "said  Corydon.  "I  think  I  can 
do  that  all  right.  It 's  awfully  nice  of  you 
fellows  to  trouble  yourselves  this  way." 

"  Not  at  all, "  said  Workman.  "  We'll  all  be 
mighty  glad  to  see  you.  Nine  ?  Yes.  Good 
bye,"  and  the  two  fellows  rose,  shook  hands, 
and  vanished. 

Corydon  and  his  two  pilots,    one  on  either 
side,  safely  navigated  the  shoals  of  State  Street, 
and  steered  to  the  dingy  haven  of  so  many  lost 
26 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

subs,  —  the  Ithaca  Hotel.  As  they  entered  the 
office  two  very  red-faced  students,  with  wilted 
collars  and  streaming  faces,  moved  aside  from 
the  desk  with  a  greeting  to  Thorpe  and  Torres- 
dale.  Fordyce  and  Hildreth  had  evidently 
missed  the  train. 

As  Corydon  thrust  the  pen  back  into  the  bowl 
of  shot  after  registering,  Fordyce  stepped  up 
to  obtain  a  match  for  some  prospective  pipe. 
Glancing  at  the  book,  he  took  the  match,  walked 
back  to  his  companion,  and  nodded.  HilcTreth 
immediately  pushed  himself  between  Torresdale 
and  Thorpe  with  a  polite  "  Pardon  me, "  and, 
addressing  the  oily  looking  clerk,  said,  "Pat, 
Charlie  Pike  wired  me  yesterday  that  a  friend 
of  his  named  Corydon,  whom  he  wanted  me  to 
meet,  was  coming  in  to-day.  Seen  anything  of 
him?" 

Corydon  looked  up  startled.  This  was  new 
to  him.  After  his  two  experiences  in  the  train 
he  had  rather  expected  every  two  men  he  saw 
together  to  shake  his  hand  and  ask  him  to  din 
ner,  and  it  had  finally  dawned  upon  him  that 
27 


The  Wooing  of  Melviile  R.  Corydon 

he  was  being  rushed;  but  he  was  not  used  to 
this  new  style  of  procedure.  He  cleared  his 
throat  and  took  a  step  forward. 

"I  — "he  began. 

"Corydon?"  asked  Hildreth,  turning  with  a 
smile  and  outstretched  hand  and  speaking  rap 
idly.  "  Went  down  to  meet  you.  Missed  train. 
Hot,  isn't  it?  My  friend  Mr.  Fordyce,  Mr. 
Corydon.  Yes ;  oh,  yes,  we  both  know  Thorpe 
and  Torresdale,  thank  you.  Hot,  is  n't  it? 
Let 's  all  go  get  a  mint- julep.  There  is  a  man 
in  back  there  who  really  mixes  a  very  superior 
article.  Oh,  yes,  you  do.  What?  Oh,  come 
along.  A  friend  of  Pike's,  and  don't —  Oh, 
that 's  very  good  —  really,  very  good.  Ha !  ha ! 
Torry,  here,  is  a  regular  soak,  are  n't  you, 
Torry?  Come  on,  Thorpe." 

Torresdale  and  Thorpe  looked  dazed.  Had 
Hildreth  been  affected  by  the  heat?  Hildreth, 
of  all  men  mild,  to  ask  a  sub-freshman  to  drink 
in  almost  the  first  words  he  spoke !  There  was 
something  wrong  somewhere ;  but  Hildreth  gath 
ered  them  in,  and  pushed  them  all  before  him 
28 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

to  the  little  rear  room,  where,  at  his  command, 
the  genial,  white-coated  George  pounded  mint 
and  sliced  pineapples  industriously  for  a  few 
moments.  Then  Hildreth  threw  a  bill  airily  on 
the  bar,  and,  raising  his  glass  to  Corydon,  buried 
his  nose  in  the  fragrant  leaves  until  nothing 
but  the  fragrant  leaves  remained.  Thorpe  and 
Torresdale,  unable  to  resist,  followed  suit,  and 
Corydon,  smiling  uncertainly,  imitated  them. 
Then,  after  a  few  moments  of  desultory  conver 
sation,  Hildreth  made  Coiydon  promise  to  stop 
at  the  house  and  see  him  on  his  way  down  from 
examinations  the  next  morning,  and  the  two 
men  disappeared. 

"Punk, "said  Fordyce,  meditatively,  "I  think 
you  made  a  fool  of  yourself  there.  I  don't 
believe  that  fellow  's  the  sport  that  Pikey  made 
him  out  to  be.  Did  you  notice  that  he  left  fully 
half  of  his  drink?" 

"  No !  "  said  Punk.  "  Let 's  go  back.  Well, 
maybe  I  did.  /  can't  act  like  a  sport.  We  '11 
see." 

Torresdale,  Thorpe,  and  Corydon  went  down 

29 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

the  hotel  steps  in  search  of  lunch.  The  sub, 
who  had  recovered  his  self-possession,  stared 
around  curiously.  This  was  the  first  time  he 
had  ever  been  in  Ithaca ;  and  the  old  New  York 
town,  born  over  a  century  ago,  and  almost 
undiscovered,  until  Ezra  Cornell  laid  the  first 
foundations  of  a  great  university  upon  the  hill 
above  its  quiet  streets,  possessed  for  him  the 
attraction  of  anticipation.  The  students  stroll 
ing  in  twos  and  threes  up  and  down  State 
Street  fascinated  him.  He  longed  for  the  fall 
that  he  might  be  among  them,  and  he  resolved 
to  number  among  his  first  purchases  a  red 
sweater  with  a  large  collar  and  white  lacings, 
and  an  amber-stemmed  drop-pipe.  Later  he 
coveted  one  of  the  silk  Cornell  flags  displayed 
in  a  certain  shop-window  further  down  the 
street.  He  looked  eagerly,  in  passing,  at  the 
pictures  of  the  campus  in  the  corner  book-store, 
and  bowed  tardily  as  his  companions  raised  their 
gray  felt  slouches  to  the  pretty  girl  who  was 
talking  to  the  senior  partner  in  the  firm.  The 
very  air  of  the  street  was  intoxicating,  with  its 
30 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Cory  don 

subtle  suggestions  of  fellowship;  and  when, 
after  a  block  and  a  half,  they  turned  into  a 
student  resort  for  lunch,  and  he  heard  the  sound 
of  a  dozen  voices  singing  to  the  accompaniment 
of  pounding  beer  glasses,  his  heart  gave  a  joy 
ful  leap,  for  all  this  and  much  more  was  the 
beginning  of  his  college  life. 

As  they  entered,  the  men  at  the  table  yelled, 
"Yeea,  Torry!  Yeea,  Thorpe!"  and  scraped 
their  chairs  and  crowded  to  make  room  for 
them.  But  Torresdale  shook  his  head  and 
smiled,  and  led  the  way  to  a  white -clothed 
table  in  a  far  corner  of  the  room.  Corydon 
was  rather  sorry.  He  would  have  liked  it 
better  nearer  those  fellows,  he  thought,  but,  of 
course,  did  not  say  anything,  and  sat  down 
meekly  in  the  chair  which  Thorpe  politely 
pulled  out  for  him. 

"  That 's  the  upper-classman  table,"  explained 
Thorpe.  "Only  upper-classmen  are  allowed  to 
sit  there." 

"  Oh,"  replied  the  sub,  "I  hope  —  I  hope  I  did 
not  keep  you  or  Mr.  Torresdale  away  from  it." 
31 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

"Oh,  no, "said  Thorpe,  carelessly.  "We  are 
there  often  enough,  as  it  is." 

"Too  often,"  smiled  Torresdale;  and  then  he 
added,  in  a  lower  tone,  "  Some  of  those  fellows 
are  rather  muckerish." 

"  Oh !  "  said  the  sub  again.  He  did  not 
exactly  understand,  but  he  was  learning,  and, 
for  the  present,  was  content  merely  to  sit  by  the 
captain  of  the  football  team  and  the  pitcher  of 
the  baseball  team,  and  drink  in  their  words. 

His  bosom  swelled  with  pride.  What  would 
some  of  those  St.  Paul's  fellows  say  if  they  could 
only  see  him  now  beside  the  mighty  Torresdale, 
who  was  slated  for  guard  of  the  All  America 
team  the  year  before?  What  if  they  should 
hear  Thorpe  calling  him  "old  man,"  just  as 
though  he  had  known  him  all  his  life,  —  Thorpe, 
who  pitched  on  the  crack  team  of  '9-!  And 
what  nice  fellows  they  were !  He  had  no  idea 
they  were  both  so  nice.  In  fact,  he  had  never 
thought  of  them  as  men,  merely  as  athletes, 
when  he  read  the  papers.  He  wondered  if  he 
was  behaving  as  he  ought.  He  did  not  know 
32 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

just  how  he  ought  to  act.  He  had  never  talked 
to  any  'varsity  men  before,  and  he  did  not  know 
just  what  to  do  or  say,  so  he  leaned  back  and 
listened  to  what  Torresdale  was  saying. 

"  The  fellows  come  down  here  and  sing  almost 
every  Saturday  night  in  term  time,  "said  Torres- 
dale.  "  You  '11  learn  to  know  this  as  Pat's,  in 
time.  There  's  Pat  now  —  that  well-fed  looking 
personage  talking  to  Jack  Crawford.  Craw 
ford  's  that  fellow  at  the  end.  He  's  on  the 
Banjo  Club." 

" Is  he  —  does  he  belong  to  your  fraternity?  " 

"Well,  not  to  any  great  extent,  "said  Thorpe, 
contemptuously.  "  He  —  " 

"Jim!"  said  Torresdale,  sharply. 

"Humph!  "  retorted  Thorpe,  lucidly. 

"You  see,"  explained  Torresdale,  "Crawford 
and  Jimmy  here  don't  love  each  other,  for 
reasons  which  you  may  know  some  day.  The 
Rho  Taus,  however,  when  entertaining  a  guest, 
make  it  an  invariable  rule  not  to  speak  badly 
of  any  man  of  another  society.  It  don't  look 
clean,  you  know." 

3  33 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

"I  see,"  said  the  sub,  vaguely. 

Thorpe  gulped  down  a  swallow  of  coffee,  and 
looked  forbidding,  and,  for  a  moment  or  two, 
the  three  were  silent.  The  sub  had  just  begun 
to  wonder  if  he  had  made  a  break  of  any  sort, 
when  a  tall  young  man,  with  thin  ankles  and 
an  incipient  mustache,  both  visible  as  he  stood 
peering  over  the  swinging  half-doors  leading 
to  the  main  room,  yelled,  "Ay,  there,  Jimmy 
Thorpe!" 

"Hello,  Colonel!"  cried  Thorpe,  forgetting 
all  his  wrath  on  the  instant.  "Come  on  in. 
There  's  a  man  you  must  meet,  Corydon.  One 
of  our  fellows,  and  a  bully  one,  too.  More  fun !  " 
said  Thorpe,  enthusiastically. 

As  Blake  came  down  the  room,  the  crowd  at 
the  upper-classman  table  yelled  vociferously,  and 
plucked  at  his  coat  to  make  him  sit  down  with 
them.  Blake  drew  back  with  an  assumption  of 
hauteur,  and,  pointing  his  finger  at  them  in  a 
mock  gesture  of  scorn,  said,  slowly,  and  in  a 
cracked  voice,  "  Y-e  worrrmss !  "  and  escaped 
in  a  shower  of  crackers. 
34 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

For  some  reason  Corydon  thought  this  re 
markably  funny,  and  he  snorted  aloud.  Then 
he  noticed  that  Thorpe  and  Torresdale  were 
only  smiling,  and  he  choked  down  his  mirth 
and  blushed. 

"We  're  used  to  him,"  said  Torresdale;  "but 
he  is  funny." 

"I  think  that  was  awfully  funny,"  said 
Corydon. 

"  He  could  have  been  the  funny  man  on  the 
Glee  Club,"  said  Thorpe,  in  his  ear,  after  he 
had  shaken  hands  with  this  curious  junior. 
"Gave  it  up  for  leadership  of  the  Banjo 
Club." 

The  sub  looked  up  with  renewed  interest,  as 
Blake  answered  a  question  of  Thorpe's  in  a 
way  that  set  them  all  laughing.  Surely  he  was 
meeting  the  most  prominent  men  in  college,  - 
the  captain  of  one  team,  the  pitcher  of  another, 
and  the  leader  of  the  Banjo  Club!  Who  would 
come  next,  he  wondered. 

He  was  puzzled.  Were  all  freshmen  treated 
this  way,  or  was  this  another  phase  of  that 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

mysterious  proceeding  called  rushing  ?  It  prob 
ably  was,  lie  said  to  himself,  and  yet  even  that 
did  not  explain  many  things.  For  instance, 
that  round-faced  fellow  on  the  train,  —  why  had 
he  seemed  so  embarrassed  when  he  had  spoken 
of  his  sister?  Then  Hildreth  at  the  hotel? 
Who  was  Charlie  Pike?  He  had  never  heard 
of  any  one  by  the  name  of  Pike.  And  how 
queerly  Hildreth  had  acted.  And  yet  they  all 
seemed  nice  fellows. 

His  thoughts  were  interrupted  by  Blake,  who 
was  telling  about  a  Banjo  Club  rehearsal  he  had 
just  attended.  He  was  lamenting  the  lack  of 
sufficient  banjeaurines  for  the  coming  year. 
Suddenly,  as  if  struck  by  a  new  thought,  he 
turned  to  Corydon. 

"Corydon,  you  play  the  banjeaurine,  don't 
you?"  he  said. 

"A  little,"  the  sub  admitted. 

"Good!  You  will  try  for  the  clubs  next 
year,  of  course?" 

"I  —  I   don't  believe  I  play  well  enough," 
stammered  Corydon,  taken  by  surprise. 
36 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

"  Oh,  nonsense !  You  try,  anyway.  It 's  a 
good  honor,  you  know." 

"Yes,  by  all  means  try,"  chimed  in  Thorpe. 
"The  Colonel  will  put  you  on  to  the  ropes." 

"  Well, "  said  Torresdale,  heartily,  "  whatever 
else  he  may  do,  he  is  going  to  play  football,  and 
that 's  no  lie.  Let 's  go  on  up  the  hill. " 

The  men  rose.  Thorpe  wrote  his  name  across 
the  check  in  the  face  of  the  sub's  protests,  and 
threw  it  across  the  bar  to  Marnit,  who  bowed 
respectfully,  and  said,  "All  right,  Mr.  Thorpe." 
Then  the  four  went  out  and  waited  for  a  car. 

When  they  reached  the  house,  Thorpe  went 
around  and  gathered  the  men  together.  He 
brought  them  up  one  after  another,  and  intro 
duced  them  to  Corydon.  They  all  shook  hands 
very  cordially,  and  said  they  had  heard  of  his 
football  playing,  and  were  glad  he  was  coming 
to  Cornell. 

Now  it  is  a  hard  thing  to  put  a  sub-freshman 

at  his  ease  before  a  room  full  of  college  men 

whom  he  has  just  met,  and  at  first  Corydon  felt 

a  little  out  of  his  element.     But  when  he  found 

37 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

that  one  of  the  fellows  knew  two  men  with 
whom  he  had  been  camping  the  summer  before, 
and  that  another  had  met  his  brother,  who 
was  a  Yale  man,  at  Bar  Harbor,  and  that  still 
another  knew  several  girls  he  knew  at  Dobb's 
Ferry,  his  embarrassment  proved  short-lived. 

As  they  fell  to  talking  of  each  other's  prep, 
schools  and  younger  associations,  always  care 
fully  avoiding  ground  which  was  unfamiliar  to 
their  guest,  his  reserve  fell  from  him  as  a 
cloak.  He  laughed  and  joked  with  the  men 
nearest  him,  and  guyed  back  gayly  at  the  fresh 
man  opposite,  who  was  making  fun  of  St.  Paul's. 
He  laughed,  until  his  cheeks  ached,  at  Blake's 
stories  and  imitations.  He  listened,  with  bated 
breath,  to  Torresdale's  description  of  the  last 
game  against  Princeton,  and  his  eyes  shone  as 
he  told  how,  with  the  ball  in  Princeton's  hands 
on  Cornell's  one  yard  line,  the  Cornell  line 
had  held  and  thrown  the  Tigers  back  four 
times,  and  then  had  punted  out  of  danger. 

The   Rho   Taus   had   done   as  they  wished. 
They  had  made^  their  man  act  naturally,  and  be 
38 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

oblivious  to  their  own  inspection.  This  is  the 
hardest  thing  to  do  in  rushing  a  freshman.  No 
man  who  was  being  rushed  ever  entered  a  fra 
ternity  house,  and  sat  before  the  battery  of 
sixteen  or  twenty  pairs  of  eyes  without  feeling 
as  though  he  were  being  criticised,  and,  feeling 
thus,  they  cannot  act  naturally.  Unless  they 
are  themselves,  it  is  very  hard  for  the  fraternity 
to  decide  upon  them.  Therefore  the  freshman 
must  become  so  deeply  interested  as  to  lose 
sight  of  himself,  and  the  fraternity,  of  course, 
must  interest  him.  This  serves  a  double  pur 
pose,  for,  being  interested,  the  freshman,  or 
sub,  has  a  good  time,  and  thus  begins  to  like 
the  crowd  and  the  men  in  it. 

When,  finally,  Thorpe  rose,  and  asked  Cory 
don  if  he  would  not  like  to  look  over  the  house, 
Corydon  felt  as  though  never  in  all  his  life 
had  he  come  across  such  a  uniformly  congenial 
crowd  of  men.  When,  under  Thorpe's  guid 
ance,  he  inspected  the  house  from  top  to  bottom, 
with  the  exception  of  one  room,  past  the  iron- 
barred,  oaken  door  of  which  Thorpe  led  him 
39 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Cory  don 

with  an  air  which  forbade  questions,  he  was 
charmed.  The  cozy  studies  and  bedrooms,  the 
large  dining-room,  and  the  library  and  recep 
tion-rooms  met  with  his  undisguised  approval. 
Life  in  such  a  house,  and  with  such  fellows, 
seemed  idyllic,  and  he  breathed  a  prayer  to 
fate  that  he  might  not  be  weighed  and  found 
wanting. 

After  he  had  seen  the  house,  a  senior  and  a 
freshman  took  him  up  the  campus,  and  he  was 
shown  the  different  halls  and  buildings  in  which 
he,  as  a  freshman,  would  work  in  the  fall.  On 
their  way  back,  the  senior  pointed  out  to  him 
the  library  lecture-room  where  he  was  to  take 
his  English  examination  on  the  following 
morning. 

After  dinner  Blake  went  to  the  piano,  and 
every  one  stood  up  and  put  his  arm  around 
everyone  else's  neck  and  sang.  For  the  greater 
part  they  sang  Rho  Tau  songs,  and  Corydon 
noticed  that  as  they  came  to  the  choruses  every 
man  tightened  his  hold  on  his  neighbor's  shoul 
ders,  and  sang  as  though  his  whole  heart  were 
40 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

in  the  music  and  words.  He  had  time  for  only 
a  very  little  wonder;  for,  changing,  Blake  broke 
into  Alma  Mater,  and  Torresdale  beckoned  to 
him  to  come  up  and  sing  with  them.  Now  very 
few  men  who  are  entering  Cornell,  and  none 
who  are  once  in  college,  hear  Alma  Mater  for 
the  first  time  without  feeling  their  pulses  bound 
and  their  hearts  beat;  and  this  particular  sub 
was  no  exception.  As  the  harmony  rang  through 
the  room,  with  Blake's  full,  sweet  tenor  soaring 
above  all,  Corydon  stood  and  listened.  When 
it  was  ended,  he  sighed  unconsciously,  and,  grip 
ping  Torresdale 's  arm,  said,  huskily,  — 

"  By  George,  Mr.  Torresdale,  I  'm  glad  I  am 
coming  here  to  college." 

Torresdale  smiled  back  understandingly.  He 
had  heard  it  for  the  first  time  three  years 
ago. 

The  songs  went  on ;  and  Corydon,  joining  in 
those  he  knew,  and  thinking  and  listening  dur 
ing  those  he  had  not  heard,  let  the  time  slip  by 
in  simple  happiness.  When  the  booming  of 
the  library  clock  woke  him  to  the  remembrance 
41 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

of  his  engagement  with  Hollister,  he  rose,  and 
Blake  stopped  playing. 

"  You're  not  going  ?  "  he  said,  rising. 

"I  'm  afraid  I  shall  have  to,"  replied  the  sub, 
reluctantly.  "  I  promised  Mr.  Hollister  that  I 
would  call  on  him  for  a  short  time  this  evening. " 

"But  it's  early  yet." 

"  I  know,  but  I  promised.  It 's  not  because 
I  care  so  much  about  it." 

"Don't  keep  him  if  he  has  a  date,  Colonel," 
said  Thorpe;  and  then,  as  an  afterthought, 
"why  can't  you  come  back  here  afterwards? 
We  are  going  to  have  a  rarebit  to-night,  and 
we  'd  like  to  have  you." 

"Jove!  but  you've  a  head,  Jimmy,"  said 
Torresdale.  "That's  the  idea." 

"Good!  Do  that.  Any  time.  Just  ring. 
Break  away  as  soon  as  you  can,"  chorused  the 
rest;  and  Corydon,  hesitating,  had  promised 
almost  before  he  knew  it. 

They  all  went  out  on  the  steps  with  him  as 
Torresdale  pointed  out  the  Beta  Chi  house. 

"  Now  be  back  as  soon  as  you  can,  old  man, " 
42 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

he  said;  and  the  sub  promised  again,  and  dis 
appeared  into  the  darkness. 

The  men  filed  back  into  the  house.  Thorpe 
stood  with  his  back  against  the  door,  and 
addressed  the  crowd. 

"Fellows,"  he  said,  "that  was  the  best  piece 
of  rushing  we  've  done  since  Willy  died.  I  am 
proud  of  you.  Now  I  suppose  we  have  got  to 
make  a  rarebit.  Some  of  you  freshmen  go  hunt 
for  that  chafing-dish." 

Corydon  entered  the  Beta  Chi  house.  His 
head  was  awhirl  with  his  new  experiences,  and 
he  pinched  himself  just  to  make  sure  that  he 
was  the  same  lowly  person  who  had  left  New 
York  in  fear  and  trembling  the  night  before. 
Workman  and  Hollister  received  him  with  open 
arms,  and  piloted  him  into  the  reception-room. 
Excusing  themselves,  they  left  him  for  a 
moment;  and  Corydon  said  to  himself,  "Now 
there  will  be  sixteen  new  men  who  will  come 
pouring  into  this  room  in  three  minutes.  I  shall 
have  to  shake  hands  with  them  all,  and  then 
43 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

they  will  ask  questions.  Humph !  "  from  which 
it  will  be  seen  that  Corydon  was  still  learning. 

He  had  hardly  time  to  look  around  and  decide 
that  the  Rho  Tau  reception-room  was  prettier, 
before  they  all  came  trooping  in.  Corydon  stood 
up  by  Hollister's  side.  He  felt  like  the  Presi 
dent  of  the  United  States,  as  one  man  after  an 
other  advanced,  grasped  his  hand,  and  uttered 
a  few  words  of  welcome ;  but  he  was  sincerely 
thankful  when  it  was  over  and  he  could  sit 
down.  He  found  a  seat  vacant,  of  course  by 
the  merest  chance,  between  the  stroke  of  the 
'varsity  crew  and  the  editor-in-chief  of  the  last 
Cornellian.  They  were  both  well-dressed,  jovial 
fellows;  but  somehow  there  was  a  suspicion  of 
artificiality  in  their  actions,  and  an  excess  of 
interest  apparent  in  their  manner  when  Corydon 
spoke.  Corydon  noticed  this,  and,  consequently, 
did  not  feel  at  ease.  Hence  the  crew  man  and 
the  Cornellian  editor  did  not  exert  the  influence 
or  inspire  the  awe  that  was  hoped. 

In  another  way,  too,  Corydon  saw  a  difference 
in  his  treatment.  The  Rho  Taus  had  talked  of 
44 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Cory  don 

those  things  which  interested  him, —  the  col 
lege  life,  the  teams,  the  crew,  and  a  little  of 
those  studies  which  he  hoped  to  take  up  in  the 
fall.  The  Beta  Chis  paid  not  one  whit  of  atten 
tion  to  any  of  these  things  but  study.  Studies 
and  church  seemed  to  be  their  only  joys.  Sev 
eral  men  asked  Corydon  if  he  were  going  to  join 
the  Y.M.C.A.  The  crew  man  offered  to  intro 
duce  him  to  the  president  of  the  association; 
and  when  Corydon  said  that  he  guessed  he 
would  wait  until  fall,  the  Cornellian  editor 
asked  him  if  he  would  not  like  to  have  him 
speak  to  the  aforesaid  president,  and  tell  him 
that  Corydon  was  coming,  and  would  be  glad 
to  help  in  prayer- meeting.  The  sub  looked 
rather  embarrassed,  and  repeated  that  he  guessed 
he  would  wait  until  fall.  Then  Puggy  Work 
man,  finding  out  that  he  was  an  Episcopalian, 
asked  him  if  he  would  not  like  to  take  a  class 
in  the  Sunday-school  of  the  church  down  town 
when  he  came  to  college.  Corydon  guessed 
again,  and  then  Hollister  offered  to  take  him 
down  to  service  on  the  following  Sunday. 
45 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

Try  as  the  sub  might,  by  his  questions  con 
cerning  college  affairs  and  fraternity  life,  he 
could  not  hold  them  back.  It  was  the  church, 
the  church,  and  always  the  church. 

It  was  too  much.  From  church  they  went 
to  study  again,  and  four  or  five  formed  a  group 
around  Corydon,  and  fell  into  a  warm  discus 
sion  as  to  the  nature  of  the  conflict  between  the 
theoiy  of  free  will  and  the  law  of  conservation 
of  energy. 

The  sub  could  not  believe  it.  The  pack  of 
cards  strewn  over  the  table,  and  only  half  hidden 
by  the  hastily -arranged  cloth,  the  pile  of  cigar 
ette  stubs  in  the  fireplace,  and  the  all-night 
face  of  the  man  opposite,  were  all  contradic 
tions.  It  almost  seemed  as  if  these  men  were 
trying  to  make  him  think  that  they  cared  for 
nothing  but  study  and  church. 

Now  Corydon  cared  no  more  and  no  less  than 
the  average  youth  for  an  excess  of  either  of 
these  two  very  necessary  things,  and  this  soon 
became  tiresome.  So  he  rose,  and  said  he 
thought  that  he  would  have  to  go. 
46 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

"Oh,  don't  be  in  a  hurry,"  said  Puggy,  in 
dismay.  "You've  just  come." 

"  I  must,  thank  you.  I  have  an  examination 
to-morrow,  you  know,"  said  Corydon,  moving 
toward  the  door. 

"  That 's  so  —  well,  can't  I  show  you  your 
way  to  the  car?" 

"  Oh,  no !  —  thank  you ;  but  I  —  I  know  the 
way  all  right,"  protested  the  sub,  with  trepida 
tion  as  he  thought  of  the  waiting  rarebit. 

"We  're  awfully  glad  to  have  seen  you,"  said 
Hollister. 

"Can't  you  dine  with  us  to-morrow?"  asked 
the  crew  man. 

"  I  promised  to  call  on  Mr.  Hildreth  after  the 
examination,"  hesitated  Corydon. 

"  Go  there  first.  We  don't  lunch  until  one, 
and  you  '11  be  through  on  the  hill  by  eleven." 

"Come  on,"  added  the  Cornellian  editor,  and 
he  weakly  gave  in. 

As  their  guest  vanished  into  the  night,  and, 
unseen,  into  the  Rho  Tau  camp,  Puggy  Work 
man  walked  slowly  back  to  the  reception-room. 
47 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

He  leaned  against  the  mantel,  and  looked  at 
Hollister.  "Jake,"  said  be,  finally,  "something 
is  wrong.  Have  we  lost  our  cunning?  That 
man  was  bored." 

"I  should  have  played  those  hymns,"  said 
Wilbur,  shuffling  the  cards. 

"And  then  you  'd  been  bored,"  said  Hollister, 
grimly.  "  Good-n  ight. ' ' 

It  was  after  twelve  when  Melville  E.  Cory 
don,  tired,  but  happy,  tumbled  into  bed  at 
the  Ithaca  Hotel.  The  day  had  been  full  of 
many  momentous  happenings  for  him,  and  he 
had  met  so  many  men  that  their  faces  danced 
before  his  eyes  like  the  pictures  on  a  kinet- 
escope.  He  had  seen  two  fraternities,  and 
liked  the  men  in  both.  To-morrow  he  was 
to  see  them  both  again,  and  another  besides. 
What  would  be  the  outcome?  Would  he 
receive  an  invitation  from  any  of  them?  And 
if  more  than  one  asked  him,  which,  if  any, 
should  he  accept?  So  far  he  liked  the  Rho 
Taus  the  better.  They  seemed  more  attached 
48 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

to  each  other  and  more  congenial  to  him. 
Then,  too,  there  was  the  football  team  and 
the  Banjo  Club,  and,  possibly,  the  baseball 
team.  It  might  be  well,  if  he  were  going  to 
try  for  any  of  them  —  and  Torresdale  and  Blake 
both  wanted  him  to  try  —  to  get  the  advantage 
of  any  points  they  might  give  him. 

He  liked  the  Beta  Chis,  too,  but  he  hoped 
they  would  treat  him  differently  the  next  time 
he  saw  them.  There  was  such  a  thing  as  too 
much  study  and  church,  he  thought.  He  would 
wait.  He  would  see  what  they  really  were  like. 
He  would  not  be  in  a  hurry.  That  was  what 
Pritchard  had  told  him  —  not  to  be  in  a  hurry. 
He  remembered  that  he  had  crooked  his  fore 
finger  at  him  to  emphasize  his  words.  What  a 
funny  nose  Pritchard  had !  And  then  he  went 
to  sleep. 

At  eight  o'clock  on  the  following  morning 
Thorpe,  ever-watchful,  peered  in  through  the 
library  lecture-room  window,  and  saw  him  busily 
frowning  over  his  examination.  Thorpe  had 
chanced  to  meet  him  on  the  campus,  and  had 
4  49 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Coryaon 

introduced  him  to  Cooley,  who  was  also  an 
entering  freshman,  and,  as  he  proudly  explained 
to  Coiydon,  who  found  him  a  very  congenial 
companion  and  bound  by  a  bond  of  sym 
pathy,  pledged  Rho  Tau.  Corydon  noticed  the 
enamelled  button  fastened  in  the  lapel  of  his 
coat,  and  was  told  that  it  was  a  pledge  button. 
He  was  told,  also,  many  other  things  he  had 
not  known,  and,  coming  from  a  sub  like  him 
self,  he  did  not  question  their  truth.  He 
learned  more  of  the  fraternities  and  of  the  sys 
tem  of  rushing,  and  he  learned  that  the  only 
society  really  worth  joining  Avas  Rho  Tau. 
Beta  Chi  and  Chi  Delta  Sigma  were  good, 
Cooley  said,  but  not  to  be  compared  with  Rho 
Tau ;  and  Cooley  said  this,  not  because  he  was 
pledged  Rho  Tau,  but  because  it  was  his  honest 
conviction,  and  he  really  believed  it.  More 
over,  it  was  generally  conceded.  All  Rho  Tau 
men,  either  in  this  chapter  or  in  any  other,  were 
gentlemen,  and  you  were  sure  to  like  them. 
Also  at  all  the  colleges,  which  Rho  Tau  had 
seen  fit  to  honor  with  a  chapter,  that  chapter 
$0 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

was  easily  the  first  and  most  prominent  of  any 
there.  The  alumni  of  Rho  Tau  were  more  loyal 
than  the  alumni  of  any  other  society.  The  bond 
between  Rho  Taus  was  stronger  than  the  bond 
of  any  of  the  rest. 

Of  course  Corydon  could  not  know  that 
Thorpe  had  routed  the  pledged  man  out  of 
bed  at  six  o'clock  that  morning,  and  had  im 
pressed  him  with  many  instructions;  and,  of 
course,  he  could  not  know  that  the  meeting 
on  the  campus  had  been  deliberately  planned. 
Therefore  the  stock  of  Rho  Tau  slid  up  fifty 
points. 

When  at  last  he  handed  in  his  paper  with  a 
sigh,  he  smiled  with  the  smile  known  only  to 
the  man  who  has  "hit  it."  He  had  answered 
every  question,  and  his  heart  was  light.  He 
walked  down  the  hill,  wondering  joyously  over 
what  Cooley  had  told  him  of  fraternities;  and 
when  Hildreth  hailed  him  from  the  piazza  of 
the  Chi  Delt  house  he  started  guiltily,  for,  in 
his  ecstasy,  he  had  forgotten  his  engagement. 

"Hallo,  there,  Corydon,"  said  Hildreth,  as 
51 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

the  sub  came  up  the  steps.  "Weren't  going 
to  shake  us,  were  you?" 

Corydon  explained. 

"  That  so  ?  "  said  Hildreth,  heartily.  "  Well ! 
Glad  you  hit  it.  That  English  exam,  is  some 
times  a  corker.  Come  around  and  sit  down 
and  smoke  acigarroon.  JackFordyce  is  here." 

They  walked  around  the  corner  of  the  piazza, 
where  Fordyce  and  six  or  eight  other  youths 
were  reclining  with  railinged  feet  and  study 
ing  the  summer  sky.  Fordyce  rose  as  he  saw 
the  sub. 

"Hello,  old  man,"  said  he,  "glad  to  see 
you.  Just  getting  down  the  hill?" 

Coiydon  admitted  it,  and,  as  the  rest  uncoiled 
themselves,  Hildreth  performed  the  necessary 
introductions  and  waved  him  to  a  chair.  The 
sub  sat  down  and  waited.  Fordyce  gave  him  a 
cigarette  and  bade  him  smoke ;  and  for  a  while 
he  puffed  in  silence  and  listened. 

The  Chi  Delts  believed  that  the  best  way  in 
which  to  make  a  man  feel  at  home  was  to  treat 
him  with  no  special  consideration,  and  with  the 
62 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  K..  Corydon 

same  degree  of  courtesy  they  showed  each  other. 
In  this  way  they  claimed  to  eradicate  the  "  being 
rushed  "  feeling  from  the  mind  of  the  man  they 
were  entertaining,  and  to  make  him  act  natu 
rally.  The  man  usually  felt  rather  uncomfort 
able;  but  this  they  claimed  was  also  natural. 
They  shared  in  the  general  belief,  however,  that 
the  freshman,  to  be  conquered,  must  be  met  on 
his  own  ground,  and  it  was  for  this  reason  that 
Corydon,  whom  they  believed,  on  good  informa 
tion,  to  be  of  somewhat  speedy  tendencies,  was 
regaled  that  morning  with  stories  of  a  more  or 
less  questionable  character,  and  tales  of  swift 
experiences,  shared  in  by  most  of  the  men. 

As  usual,  he  found  himself  next  to  the  fra 
ternity  celebrity.  This  time  he  was  a  long 
individual,  who  masqueraded  under  the  eupho 
nious  title  of  "Bug."  Corydon,  noticing  his 
blue  serge  coat,  with  the  crossed  oars  embroid 
ered  in  white  silk  above  the  pocket,  asked  if 
he  was  connected  with  the  'varsity  crew,  and 
learned  that  his  honor  was  that  of  conversing 
with  the  Commodore  of  the  Cornell  Navy. 
53 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

After  that  he  learned  that  there  were  two  Banjo 
and  one  Mandolin  Club  man  among  them,  and 
that  Hildreth  was  the  first  baseman  on  the 
team.  The  array  was  somewhat  imposing. 

But  what  puzzled  the  sub-freshman  most  was 
the  insistency  with  which  they  all  told  stories 
of  their  own  bold  and  dark  deeds,  and  how  they 
disputed  when  Hildreth  claimed  to  have,  on  a 
certain  evidently  memorable  night,  drunk  three 
more  glasses  of  whiskey  than  the  Mandolin 
Club  man.  He  began  to  think  that  this  crowd 
was  rather  speedy.  He,  at  school,  had  always 
been  the  last  to  condemn  anything  of  that  sort ; 
but  he  felt  that  there  was  a  limit, —  just  as  there 
was  a  limit  to  which  one  might  comfortably  go 
in  the  other  direction.  He  was  thinking  of  the 
Beta  Chis  just  then. 

Yet  he  did  not  refuse  the  crackers  and  wine 
which,  at  a  sign  from  Fordyce,  the  trig  little 
negro  boy  placed  on  the  wicker  table.  He  had 
no  way  of  knowing  that  this  was  the  only  bottle 
in  the  house,  and  had  been  bought  for  the  occa 
sion.  And  he  did  not  refuse  the  cordial  invita- 
54 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

tion  that  the  crew  man  gave  him  as  he  was 
leaving. 

All  this  was  because  the  sub  was  continuing 
to  learn.  He  recognized  the  value  of  a  society, 
since  his  talk  with  Cooley,  and  he  realized  fully 
that  he  was  being  rushed.  Therefore  he  be 
lieved  he  could  best  serve  his  own  interests  by 
making  up  his  mind  as  soon  as  possible,  that 
there  might  be  no  hesitancy  if  he  should  be 
asked.  To  this  end  he  must  not  refuse  invita 
tions  from  any  of  them,  and,  once  accepted,  they 
must  not  be  broken. 

So  Corydon  went  up  to  the  Beta  Chi  house 
to  lunch,  and  after  he  had  lunched  he  went  to 
his  hotel;  and  when  he  reached  his  hotel  he 
found  an  invitation  to  the  Rho  Tau  house  to 
dinner,  and  he  went  up  the  long  hill  again. 

Thus  things  went  on.  One  day  lie  would  go 
sailing  with  the  Rho  Taus,  driving  with  the 
Chi  Delts,  and  swimming  with  the  Beta  Chis. 
All  the  other  societies  kept  their  hands  off  and 
watched.  The  next  day  he  would  go  calling 
with  the  Rho  Taus,  playing  tennis  with  the  Chi 
65 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

Delts,  and  dining  with  the  Beta  Chis.  The 
rushing  grew  hot  and  fierce,  and  the  sub  was 
foxy,  and  showed  no  preference.  The  Rho 
Taus,  to  make  a  ten  strike,  gave  a  dance  for 
him.  The  Chi  Delts,  not  to  be  outdone,  gave 
a  huge  dinner,  with  many  bottles  thereat,  at 
Kay's.  The  Beta  Chis,  to  cap  the  climax, 
invited  the  Episcopal  minister,  his  wife,  and 
the  superintendent  of  the  Sunday-school  to  din 
ner  to  meet  him.  Corydon  went  to  them  all, 
one  after  another. 

The  sub  was  a  lion. 

Finally  the  Beta  Chis  cornered  him  one  after 
noon,  and  with  much  empressement  and  solem 
nity  offered  him  an  election.  They  expatiated 
on  their  position  in  college;  they  pointed  to 
their  long  and  growing  chapter-roll  with  pride ; 
they  bore  down  upon  their  intimacy  with  cer 
tain  professors,  whom  Corydon  had  met  at  their 
house,  and  they  trotted  the  crew  man,  the 
Oornellian  editor,  and  a  bunch  of  lesser  satellites 
back  and  forth  until  Corydon's  vision  blurred 
and  dimmed.  They  dwelt  on  their  own  steadi- 
56 


The  W00iHg  Of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

ness,  and  they  asked  Corydon  to  say  frankly 
whether  he  believed  any  other  crowd  better, 
morally,  than  they.  When  Corydon  said  that, 
so  far  as  he  had  seen,  they  were  better  than  the 
rest,  that  way,  they  looked  at  each  other  in 
triumph,  and  Hollister  sighed  as  he  thought 
how  soon  the  strain  would  be  over. 

But  when  Corydon  said  that  he  could  not 
make  up  his  mind  yet,  that  he  must  have  time, 
they  looked  startled  and  grieved.  They  did  not 
understand,  they  said,  why  he  hesitated;  and 
for  a  while  they  seriously  considered  taking 
back  their  invitation.  Later,  when  they  found 
him  immovable  against  all  bluffs,  they  graciously 
permitted  him  ten  days  in  which  to  decide. 

So  Corydon  waited.  A  day  after  his  inter 
view  with  the  Beta  Chis,  Hildreth  and  Fordyce 
called  on  him  at  the  hotel,  and,  with  many 
throat-clearings  and  looks  of  mystery,  explained 
their  mission,  —  that  of  offering  him  the  honor  of 
an  election  to  Chi  Delta  Sigma.  They  showed 
him  wherein  they  were  superior  to  all  others. 
They  assured  him  that  in  no  other  crowd  would 

67 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

he  find  such  close  relationship  among  the  mem 
bers.  They  asked  him  if  he  did  not  consider 
their  crowd  far  livelier  than  the  others;  and 
when  he  told  them  that,  as  far  as  he  knew, 
they  certainly  were,  Fordyce  looked  at  Hildreth, 
and  Hildreth  looked  at  Fordyce,  both  with 
smiles  of  satisfaction. 

When  Corydon  thanked  them  for  the  honor, 
but  told  them  that  he  could  not  yet  decide,  they 
gasped. 

"Can't  decide!  Why  — why!  I  —  "  said 
Fordyce. 

"Corydon,  think  carefully,"  said  Hildreth. 
"People  don't  get  invitations  to  Chi  Delta 
Sigma  every  day." 

"I  have  thought,  Mr.  Hildreth,"  answered 
the  sub.  "I  simply  can't  arrive  at  any  conclu 
sion  at  present.  I  like  your  men  very  much 
indeed,  and  I  appreciate  the  honor  of  your  invi 
tation.  But  what  can  I  do?  I  don't  know 
what  I  want  myself,  yet." 

"You  only  think  you  don't,  old  man,"  said 
Fordyce,  pulling  himself  together,  and  putting 
58 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

his  hand  on  Corydon's  knee.  "  You  really  want 
Chi  Delta  Sigma  —  as  badly  as  we  want  you. 
Listen ! "  and  Fordyce  began  to  talk. 

He  talked  in  a  low,  impressive  tone,  at  first, 
and,  as  he  went  on,  it  grew  vibrant  and  plead 
ing.  Corydon  was  sorry ;  sorry  because  he  liked 
Fordyce  very  much  and  hated  to  disappoint  him 
by  his  answer,  and  sorry  because  Fordyce 's 
earnestness  and  feeling  made  it  doubly  hard 
for  him  to  keep  the  resolution  he  had  made. 
Twice  he  was  on  the  verge  of  yielding,  and 
twice,  in  the  very  knick  of  time,  despite 
Fordyce 's  impassioned  tones,  the  faces  of  Tor- 
resdale  and  Thorpe  rose  before  him,  and  he 
drew  back  on  the  very  brink.  It  was  not 
strange  that  his  resolutions  should  be  so  nearly 
broken,  for  Fordyce  was  one  of  the  best  talk 
ers  and  most  able  elocutionists  in  college,  and 
many  a  sub,  just  as  full  of  resolve  as  Cory 
don,  had  gone  down  before  his  all-powerful 
tongue.  But  Corydon  straightened  up  and 
shook  himself. 

"Mr.  Fordyce,"  said  he,  "you  're  making  this 
69 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

hard  for  me.  Please  don't.  I  've  got  to  have 
time." 

So  Fordyce  stopped.  Hildreth  suggested  that 
a  drink  might  be  in  order;  but  Corydon,  who 
wanted  to  be  alone,  and  think,  excused  himself; 
and  the  two  Chi  Delts,  with  an  expressed  hope 
and  an  unexpressed  fear,  left  him. 

"Jack,"  said  Hildreth,  as  they  left  the  hotel, 
"that  lad  is  no  one's  fool,  if  he  is  a  sport." 

"Right,"  said  Fordyce.  "That's  our  play, 
though.  He  seems  to  pay  more  attention  to  our 
apparent  gayness  than  to  anything  else.  We  '11 
keep  it  up." 

Meanwhile  Corydon  stood  looking  out  of  the 
window,  and  wrinkling  his  subbish  young  fore 
head  in  thought. 

In  the  last  few  days  he  had  made  inquiries 
here  and  there,  and  had  learned  of  the  standing 
of  the  three  fraternities,  relatively  to  the  rest  of 
the  college.  Of  the  three  he  infinitely  preferred 
Rho  Tau ;  but  as  Rho  Tau  had  not  yet  honored 
him  with  an  invitation,  and  as  he  did  not  know 
that  he  would  be  so  favored,  he  was  in  some- 
60 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

thing  of  a  quandary.  He  realized  that  his  stay 
in  Ithaca  was  of  short  duration,  and  that  he 
could  not  hold  his  two  present  invitations  over 
the  summer.  If  Rho  Tau  asked  him  before  he 
left,  he  would  pledge  himself.  If  they  did  not, 
he  must  decide  whether  he  would  accept  one  of 
the  others,  or  let  them  both  go,  in  the  hope  of 
being  asked  in  the  fall  by  Rho  Tau.  What  was 
best? 

In  his  perplexity  he  thought  of  Torresdale. 
He  had  been  asked  to  dinner  by  Thorpe  that 
evening,  and  he  would  doubtless  see  the  foot 
ball  man  there.  Torresdale  had  once,  in  a  long, 
serious  talk  about  fraternities,  and  things  con 
cerning  which  Corydon  wished  to  learn,  told 
him  not  to  hesitate  if  there  ever  was  anything 
he  wished  to  know,  but  to  come  to  him  and  let 
him  help  him  out  with  his  greater  experience. 
Here  was  a  chance  to  test  his  good  faith.  He 
would  go  to  Torresdale,  not  as  a  freshman  to  a 
senior,  but  as  a  man  to  a  man,  and  he  would 
ask  him  what  he  thought  was  best  to  do. 

It  was   remarkably   lucky   for    Melville    E. 

61 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

Corydon  that  his  resolution  was  forestalled. 
Seniors  do  not  court  man  to  man  conversations 
about  their  fraternities  with  sub-freshmen,  and 
Mr.  Corydon  would  most  surely  have  seen  his 
chances  for  Rho  Tau  vanish  in  the  dimmest  part 
of  the  dim  distance,  had  he  held  his  proposed 
court  of  inquiry. 

As  it  was,  when  he  sought  out  Torresdale 
after  dinner,  and  asked  for  the  privilege  of  a 
few  minutes'  conversation  with  him,  Torresdale 
said  pleasantly,  — 

"  Why,  of  course.  I  have  something  to  say 
to  you,  too,  which  might  as  well  be  said  now 
as  at  any  time.  Let's  go  up  in  my  study," 
and,  as  he  led  the  way,  he  shot  a  glance  at  the 
group  around  the  piano,  which  meant  "  no  inter 
ruptions,  please." 

Corydon  sat  down  and  cleared  his  throat. 
He  did  not  know  just  where  to  begin.  Some 
how  it  was  harder  to  say  than  he  had  thought, 
when  he  had  considered  the  matter  at  his  hotel. 
He  watched  Torresdale  lighting  his  pipe,  and 
he  cleared  his  throat  again. 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

Then  Torresdale  spoke.  "  Perhaps, "  said  he, 
"you  had  better  let  me  say  my  little  piece  first. 
Afterwards,  I  '11  be  willing  to  help  you  in  any 
way  I  can." 

The  sub  was  only  too  glad  of  the  brief  respite, 
and  he  prepared  to  listen.  Torresdale  com 
menced. 

He  did  not  have  the  ready  flow  of  words  in 
which  Fordyce  rejoiced,  and  he  did  not  use  the 
awe-inspiring  solemnity  of  Hollister;  but  as 
Corydon  heard  what  the  big  guard  was  saying, 
with  his  simple  straightforward  earnestness,  his 
heart  began  to  swell,  and  his  vision  became 
blurred.  Torresdale  started  at  the  beginning. 
He  told  the  sub  something  of  the  society  and 
its  policy.  He  told  of  its  foundation  years  ago. 
He  spoke  of  some  of  the  alumni  who  had  gone 
from  the  sheltering  walls  of  the  chapter  house 
to  rise  among  their  fellowmen  in  the  world  out 
side.  He  said  something  of  each  of  the  different 
men  in  the  house,  and  he  spoke  of  them  as  one 
brother  would  of  another.  Then  as  Corydon, 
scarcely  breathing,  lest  he  lose  a  word,  bent 

63 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Cory  don 

forward  in  his  chair,  he  began  to  tell  him  that 
they  wanted  him  to  be  among  them  next  year 
and  forever  after.  He  said  that  he  had  been 
commissioned  by  every  man  in  the  society  to 
extend  the  offer  of  membership  to  him,  and  his 
voice  sank  deep  into  Corydon's  soul  as  he  ended 
with  "and  it  is  the  warmest  wish  of  all  of  us 
that  you  accept.  We  want  you,  and  we  hope 
that  you  want  us,  and,  from  my  own  experi 
ence,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  if  you  pledge 
yourself  you  will  never,  on  this  earth,  or  on 
any  other,  regret  your  decision." 

Corydon  looked  up  and  met  Torresdale's 
eyes.  Then  he  looked  around  the  room  for  a 
moment.  Then  he  looked  up  again,  and,  with 
a  sudden  impulsive  movement,  held  out  his 
hand.  Torresdale  grasped  it  tightly.  "Will 
you?"  he  asked  quickly. 

Melville  R.  Corydon,  sub-freshman,  put  his 
hand  on  the  senior's  shoulder.  This  was  very 
fresh. 

"Will  I?"  he  said,  with  a  queer  little  laugh. 
"Torry,  I  was  afraid  you  would  not  ask  me." 

04 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

Torresdale  gave  an  exultant  chuckle,  and, 
flinging  wide  the  door,  filled  the  house  with  a 
series  of  exultant  roars. 

Doors  opened,  and  men  swarmed  from  every 
where.  They  rattled  down  from  the  third  story 
and  up  from  the  first,  and,  as  they  came,  they 
whooped.  Torresdale  stood  by  the  door  and 
laughed  more  softly  as  the  men  came  pouring 
into  the  room.  Corydon  did  not  quite  under 
stand;  but  he  was  glad  to  have  all  the  fellows 
shaking  his  hand  and  telling  him  how  glad  they 
were. 

On  the  following  day,  as  Puggy  Workman 
was  basking  in  the  sun,  on  the  Beta  Chi  house 
piazza,  there  came  a  freshman  to  him  with  his 
mail. 

In  it  were  the  following  letters. 

FORTUNATUS    COXSTANTINE    WORKMAN, 

BETA  CHI  HOUSE,  ITHACA,  N.  Y. 

MY  DEAR  SON,  —  I  have  received  no  acknowl 
edgment  of  the  draft  I  sent  you  over  a  week 
5  65 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R,  Corydon 

ago.     Please  let  ine  know  at  once  whether  you 
received  it. 

Aff't'ly, 

FATHER. 

P.  S.  I  made  a  slight  misstatement  in  my 
last  letter  to  you.  I  told  you,  if  I  remember 
rightly,  that  R.  E.  Corydon's  son  was  going  to 
Ithaca  to  take  his  entrance  examinations.  This, 
I  found  later,  was  a  mistake  on  my  part.  The 
young  man  who  is  there  is,  as  you  doubtless 
know  by  this  time,  the  son  of  Mr.  R.  F.  Corydon, 
and  is  not  the  ardent  church-worker  I  supposed. 
In  fact,  I  do  not  believe  he  is  overly  attentive 
to  his  spiritual  welfare.  $  F. 

F.  C.  WORKMAN,  ESQ., 

BETA  CHI  HOUSE,  CITY. 

DEAR  MR.  WORKMAN,  —  It  is  with  many 
thanks  to  you,  and  a  great  deal  of  regret  on  my 
part,  that  I  tell  you  that  I  must  decline  the  honor 
conferred  upon  me  by  your  society  in  asking  me 
to  join.  It  has  been  a  hard  matter  for  me  to 
decide  between  three  fraternities,  and  in  pledg- 
66 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

ing  myself  Hho  Tau  I  have  followed  rny  inclina 
tions  as  nearly  as  I  knew  how. 

I  trust  that  the  cordial  relations  established 
between  us  will  not  entirely  cease  because  I  have 
chosen  as  I  have,    and  I  thank  you  all  most 
heartily  for  your  hospitality. 
Very  truly, 

MELVILLE  R.  CORYDON. 

Later  in  the  day  the  snub-nosed  boy  brought 
another  message  to  Hildreth.     It  read :  — 

WM.  A.  HILDRETH, 

CHI  DELTA  SIGMA  HOUSE,  ITHACA,  N.  Y. 

Corydon,  son  of  R.  F.,  notR.  A.    Not  sporty. 
Good   fellow   and   fine   football   player.     Rush 

hard.     Sorry.     My  mistake. 

PIKE. 

This  came  collect.     Ten  minutes  later  another 
mail  came,  and  with  it  another  letter. 

W.  A.  HILDRETH,  ESQ., 

CHI  DELTA  SIGMA  HOUSE,  CITY. 

DEAR   MR.    HILDRETH,  —  It    is    with    many 
thanks  to  you,  and  a  great  deal  of  regret  on  my 
67 


The  Wooing  of  Melville  R.  Corydon 

part,  that  I  tell  you  that  I  must  decline  the 
honor  conferred  upon  me  by  your  society  in 
asking  me  to  join.  It  has  been  a  hard  matter 
for  me  to  decide  between  two  fraternities,  and 
in  pledging  myself  Rho  Tau  I  have  followed 
my  inclinations  as  nearly  as  I  knew  how. 

I  trust  that  the  cordial  relations  established 
between  us  will  not  entirely  cease  because  I 
have  chosen  as  I  have,  and  I  thank  you  all  most 
heartily  for  your  hospitality. 
Very  truly, 

MELVILLE  R.  CORYDON. 

That  night  Beta  Chi  and  Chi  Delta  Sigma 
broke  training. 


68 


LITTLE   TYLER 


LITTLE  TYLER 

r  I  ''HEY  were  waiting  in  front  of  the  drug- 
-*•       store  for  a  car.     Torresdale  was  going  to 
football  practice,  and  Little  Tyler,  trotting  dog- 
like  at  his  heels,  was  going  to  look  on. 

Little  Tyler  was  very  proud  that  day,  for  it 
was  something  to  know  the  crack-guard  of  the 
'varsity ;  and  it  was  more  to  know  him  well,  to 
be  seen  with  him,  and  to  be  permitted  to  carry 
his  moleskins.  He  ran  along  by  his  side,  look 
ing  up  into  his  face,  and  drinking,  open- 
mouthed,  every  word,  as  he  talked  of  the 
different  players  in  an  easy,  familiar  way.  He 
even  called  the  captain  of  the  'varsity  by  his 
first  name;  and  to  Little  Tyler  there  was  no 
one  quite  so  awful  as  the  captain  of  the  'varsity. 
He  stood  on  a  pedestal  among  his  men,  and 
looked  down  on  the  college  with  a  far-off,  affable 
condescension  that  did  not  seem  at  all  like  an 
71 


Little  Tyler 

ordinary  man.  Little  Tyler  had  watched  him. 
Often,  as  the  captain  stood  in  front  of  Lincoln 
Hall,  between  recitations,  talking  to  other  seniors 
in  that  deep,  heavy  voice  of  his,  he  had  edged 
as  close  to  the  group  as  he  dared,  and  caught 
fragments  of  mysterious  conversations  about  a 
certain  Bobby  and  his  problems ;  and  sometimes 
in  the  long  nights,  when  he  had  been  unable  to 
sleep  because  of  the  pain  in  his  back,  he  had 
lain  in  bed  practising  his  intonations  and  tones, 
feeling  all  the  time  as  if  he  were  committing  a 
sacrilege.  Once,  when  he  had  been  walking  up 
the  campus  with  Torresdale,  the  captain  had 
passed  them,  and  said,  "'Lo,  Torry,"  and 
"How  are  you,  Tyler?"  as  he  brushed  by. 
This  was  the  nearest  he  had  ever  come  to 
knowing  him;  but  he  had  shivered  all  over 
with  joy,  and  had  lived  on  that  memory  for 
weeks. 

In  the  same  way,  though  with  a  slightly  less 

degree   of   reverence,    he   admired   Torresdale. 

Torresdale   was   a  freshman,   and   in   his   own 

class,  so  that  of  course  he  was  not  now  nearly 

72 


Little  Tyler 

so  far  above  him  as  the  captain.  He  felt 
certain  that  even  if  the  skies  should  fall,  or  the 
whole  earth  should  change  in  some  way,  so 
that  he  should  know  the  captain  very  well,  he 
should  never  be  able  to  talk  to  him  and  ask 
him  things  as  he  could  Torresdale.  Not  that 
Torresdale  was  at  all  an  ordinary  person,  but 
because  he  was  a  freshman,  —  and  all  freshmen 
are  kin,  — •  and  possibly  because  he  had  been 
very  kind  to  him,  and  had  tried  never  to  do 
anything  that  would  remind  him  of  that  ugly 
hump  on  his  back. 

For  weeks,  his  admiration  had  fallen  from 
afar,  and  had  confined  itself  to  wistfully  watch 
ing  Torresdale 's  figure,  as  he  swung  up  the 
campus  or  ran  around  the  track  with  the  training 
squad.  There  was  a  hope  in  his  heart  that  he 
might  some  day  know  him;  and  at  first,  when 
Torresdale  was  only  playing  on  the  scrub,  this 
had  not  seemed  impossible ;  but  later,  when  he 
had  been  chosen  for  the  'varsity,  his  heart  sank 
and  hope  died,  for  he  had  never  dreamed  of 
knowing  a  real  'varsity  football  player. 
73 


Little  Tyler 

Being  freshmen,  they  both  happened  to  be  in 
the  same  five-hour  math,  section,  and  one  day 
Torresdale  came  late  to  the  recitation  in  trigo 
nometry.  Partly  through  accident,  and  partly 
because  he  had  noticed  the  bent  little  figure 
with  the  pinched-looking  face  and  wistful  eyes, 
he  had  dropped  into  the  seat  next  him,  and 
had  nodded  pleasantly.  Little  Tyler,  his  heart 
beating  a  stifling  tattoo  against  his  ribs,  nodded 
back,  scarcely  knowing  what  he  did ;  and  little 
by  little  they  had  fallen  into  a  whispered  con 
versation,  roughly  broken  by  the  instructor's  sud 
den  turning  and  asking  for  order  in  an  extremely 
unpleasant  tone.  Then  he  shrank  back  in  his 
seat  and  looked  frightened.  Torresdale  had 
only  smiled  and  remarked,  in  a  husky  and  very 
audible  whisper,  that  "  Old  Stone  "  had  his  back 
up  this  morning.  He  had  learned  what  instruc 
tors  were  for,  and  "  Old  Stone  "  evidently  knew 
it,  for  he  did  not  turn  again.  By  the  end  of 
the  hour  they  were  on  the  best  of  terms;  and 
after  that  Torresdale  had  always  smiled  and 
nodded,  and  often  sat  beside  him.  One  day 
74 


Little  Tyler 

they  had  met  on  the  campus,  and  Torresdale 
had  suggested  that  Little  Tyler  should  take 
dinner  with  him  that  evening.  Little  Tyler 
had  gone,  and  they  had  sat  talking  football 
until  far  into  the  night.  Day  by  day  the 
friendship  grew.  Torresdale,  with  his  big, 
overflowing  heart,  learned  to  await  the  coming 
of  the  little  hunchback,  and  learned  what  it 
really  was  to  watch  over  and  be  thoughtful  for 
some  one  else.  It  was  rather  a  new  sensation, 
and  he  liked  it.  He  liked  to  talk  and  watch 
the  little  thin  face  light  up,  and  the  wistful, 
deep-set  eyes  glow  and  sparkle  when  he  told  of 
some  exciting  tackle  or  wonderful  run ;  and  he 
found  out,  too,  that  there  were  few  men  on  the 
team  who  knew  more  about  the  theories  of  foot 
ball  than  Little  Tyler. 

On  the  other  hand,  Little  Tyler,  who  had 
never  in  all  his  life  known  what  it  was  to  have 
a  real  chum,  looked  up  to  Torresdale  as  to  a 
god,  and  worshipped  him  with  a  blind  devo 
tion.  The  rest  of  the  men  in  his  class,  and  the 
others  whom  he  had  known  before  he  came  to 
75 


Little  Tyler 

college,  had  always  treated  him  as  a  child. 
Torresdale  gave  his  years  due  credit  and  respect ; 
but  the  rest,  partly  on  account  of  an  uncon- 
fessed  feeling  of  embarrassment  in  the  presence 
of  his  misfortune,  and  partly  because  they  had 
never  tried  to  know  him,  refused  him  admittance 
to  their  fellowship.  They  never  noticed  him 
when  they  were  planning  cider  raids  or  flag 
raisings,  for  he  could  be  of  no  use  to  them  in 
such  things.  They  never  noticed  him  in  class 
meetings,  for  he  could  not  stand  boldly  forth, 
as  did  the  rest,  and  make  enthusiastic,  burning 
speeches  about  the  tyrannical  sophomores,  and 
what  the  class  would  do  if  given  the  chance. 
He  was  usually  wedged  in  between  two  men, 
and  almost  out  of  sight,  so  that  no  one  ever 
knew  how  his  cheeks  burned  and  his  fingers 
itched  to  be  well  and  strong,  that  he  might 
do  his  share  and  show  his  class  spirit.  They 
did  not  need  him ;  and  in  their  life  his  pitiful, 
misshapen  figure  acted  as  a  wet  blanket  on  all 
their  fun. 

But  Torresdale  treated  him  as  an  equal.     He 

76 


Little  Tyler 

did  not  patronize  him  when  he  spoke,  but  asked 
his  advice  on  lots  of  things,  and  talked  to  him 
just  as  though  he  were  one  of  the  others  who 
could  stand  up  straight.  His  whole  heart  went 
out  to  him.  It  was  good  to  have  some  one 
talk  to  him  as  though  he  were  a  man,  and  like 
to  have  him  around;  it  was  better  that  the 
some  one  was  the  right-guard  of  the  football 
team ;  it  was  best  of  all  that  he  was  Torresdale. 
Had  he  been  given  his  choice  of  all  his  class,  he 
would  have  chosen  no  one  else.  Torresdale  was 
so  clever,  so  big,  so  warm-hearted.  There  was 
no  one  so  popular  or  so  handsome  among  all 
the  freshmen.  No  one  else  dared  to  talk  to  the 
professors  in  that  easy  way  he  had.  Decidedly, 
there  was  no  one  among  all  the  under-classmen 
who  was  quite  so  great  and  good  as  Torresdale. 
Through  the  occult  method  of  communication 
known  by  freshmen  and  sophomores,  the  news 
had  swept  through  class-room  and  campus  that 
on  this  night  there  would  be  a  fierce  rush  on 
Eddy  Street.  In  consequence,  the  feeling  be 
tween  the  two  classes  had  raged  all  day  long  at 

77 


Little  Tyler 

fever  heat.  No  one  knew  who  were  the  leaders 
in  the  movement,  but  every  one  felt  the  need  of 
an  old-time  rush  to  clear  the  air.  The  valiant 
sophomores,  stern  in  the  sense  of  their  class 
duty,  and  bold  in  the  remembrance  of  their  pre 
ceding  year's  victory,  had  been  too  long  over 
bearing,  and  the  under-class,  at  first  timid  with 
the  sense  of  new  surroundings  and  unfamiliar 
traditions,  had  found  itself.  Under  the  guid 
ance  and  advice  of  friendly  juniors  the  class 
had  organized,  for  there  had  been  too  much  of 
the  humiliating  drinking  of  milk  and  vinegar 
forced  down  one's  throat  by  a  big  sophomore 
and  a  rubber  tube,  and  it  was  time  they  earned 
their  rightful  emancipation. 

There  had  l>een  a  number  of  other  rushes  in 
the  earlier  part  of  the  term,  but  they  had  been 
battles  between  veterans,  and  half  the  number 
of  raw  troops,  and  the  sophomores  had  easily 
won.  This  time,  things  were  to  be  different. 
The  flag  was  to  be  of  the  stoutest  painted  can 
vas,  strong  enough  to  bear  an  enormous  strain. 
The  strongest  men  in  the  freshman  class,  in- 
78 


Little  Tyler 

eluding  Torresdale,  were  to  lay  tight  hold  of 
the  flag  on  one  side,  while  the  three  chosen  from 
the  sophomores  seized  the  other.  Then  a  senior 
gave  the  word,  and  both  classes  were  to  rush 
together  and  fight  for  its  possession.  It  prom 
ised  to  be  very  interesting,  and  the  jaded  seniors 
and  juniors,  behind  whom  active  participancy 
in  such  affairs  lay,  looked  forward  to  a  very 
pleasant  evening. 

Torresdale  and  Little  Tyler  were  talking 
about  it.  The  latter  held  the  big  guard's 
moleskin  football  trousers  hugged  affection 
ately  to  his  breast,  and  looked  up  awfully  into 
his  face  as  he  spoke  of  the  horrors,  the  de 
lights,  and  the  probable  perils  of  the  coming 
evening. 

"And  it  will  be  the  biggest  rush  ever,"  he 
finally  ended,  standing  with  his  legs  apart,  and 
tapping  Little  Tyler  solemnly  on  the  shoulder, 
—  "absolutely  the  biggest  rush  ever.  There 
will  be  blood,  and  lots  of  it.  The  bodies 
will  sway,  and  sophomores  will  be  trampled 
upon  and  groan  horribly.  Ah-h-h-h!"  and 

79 


Little  Tyler 

Torresdale   clicked    his   teeth   together  in  an 
ticipation. 

"Shall  we  really  win?"  asked  Little  Tyler, 
anxiously,  —  "shall  we  really  ?" 

"If  I  thought  we  shouldn't,"  replied  Torres- 
dale,  slowly,  "  I  would  never  show  my  face  at 
Percy  Field  again.  I  would  never  touch  a  foot 
ball  again.  Never  —  though  they  offered  to 
make  me  captain  three  times  over  —  if  I  thought 
we  should  n't.  But  I  don't." 

"That's  good,"  said  Little  Tyler.  "And 
you  are  in  the  middle,  Torry?  Who  were 
chosen  with  you  ?  " 

"  Johnson  on  my  right  and  H.  Lockwood  on 
my  left.  They  are  two  of  the  huskiest  men 
in  college,"  answered  Torresdale.  "There  are 
only  three  men  in  the  whole  sophomore  class 
of  whom  we  need  be  at  all  afraid." 

"Birdsell,  Humboldt,  and  who  else?"  asked 
Little  Tyler,  timidly. 

"  Why,  how  in  the  deuce  did  you  know  who 
I  meant?"  said  Torresdale,  staring.     "Dickson 
is  the  other.     But  how  did  you  know?  " 
80 


Little  Tyler 

"I've  watched  them  playing  on  the  scrub 
when  I  've  been  down, "  apologized  Little  Tyler. 
"The  first  two  are  hard  men,  I  imagine;  but 
Dickson  missed  three  tackles  last  week  Friday, 
and  his  shoulders  are  too  narrow.  He  won't 
last,  I  think." 

"H'm,"  said  his  companion,  looking  down  at 
him  curiously.  "  Perhaps  you  're  right.  Still, 
that  six-handed  business  is  not  the  main  issue. 
As  soon  as  the  word  is  given,  we  shall,  of  course, 
try  to  get  that  flag,  but  we  won't  be  the  only 
ones.  In  less  than  ten  seconds,  there  will  be  a 
close,  howling  mob  around  us,  and  every  one 
will  be  fighting  for  a  grip  on  it.  One  side  will 
pull  one  way,  and  one  the  other,  and  it  won't 
be  any  easy  job  for  any  one." 

"  Oh,  I  wish  I  were  strong !  I  wish  I  could 
be  in  that!"  cried  Little  Tyler,  quickly.  He 
clasped  his  hands,  and  looked  beseechingly  up 
at  his  friend,  who  towered  above  him  like  a 
giant  over  a  pigmy.  "  Torry,  you  're  the  only 
one  that  knows.  The  others  think  I  have  no 
class  spirit,  because  I  can't  talk  and  go  into 
6  81 


Little  Tyler 

athletics,  and  do  the  other  things  they  do. 
They  think  I  am  a  coward  because  of  that," 
he  jerked  his  head  backwards  toward  his  bent, 
deformed  back, — "a  coward,"  he  whispered. 
"  Do  you  hear,  Tony  ?  —  a  coward  !  " 

Torresdale  dropped  his  hand  on  his  shoulder. 
"Hush,  Tyler, "he  said.  "I  know  it's  hard, 
and  d — d  hard,  too.  It  must  be.  But  you 
stick  it  out.  There  is  not  one  man  in  twenty 
who  would  have  dared  to  try  college  at  all,  if 
he  —  if  he  —  were  like  you.  I  'm  not  blind ; 
and  maybe  I  've  seen  more  than  you  think. 
They  don't  mean  it.  They  simply  don't  under 
stand.  Wait!  They  will  in  time;  and  if  you 
can  show  the  courage  to  force  them  to  under 
stand,  you  will  be  happy  all  your  life.  If  you 
leave  college,  no  one  will  ever  know  you  were 
not  what  some  of  them  may  be  short-sighted 
enough  to  think  you  now.  You  stay,  and  — 
and  —  well,  I'm  here,  you  know." 

"I  know,  Torry,"  said  the  hunchback,  grate 
fully;  "I  'm  sorry  I  spoke  as  I  did.  It  was 
weak,  and  I  don't  think  I  '11  do  it  again.  At 
82 


Little  Tyler 

least,  I  '11  try  not.  Just  forget,  will  you,  please  ? 
But  I  'm  going  to  show  them,  I  '11  show  them, 
if  it  kills  me." 

Torresdale  eyed  him  keenly.  "  You  keep  out 
of  that  rush, "  he  said.  "  Mind !  " 

Little  Tyler  laughed. 

At  the  field  that  day  he  sat  in  state  on  the 
side  lines,  with  Torresdale 's  coat  over  his  knees, 
and  his  'varsity  sweater,  red  with  the  big  white 
C  in  the  centre,  tied  snugly  around  his  neck  by 
the  sleeves.  No  one  paid  any  attention  to  him, 
and  he  sat  alone,  eagerly  watching  the  plays, 
and  applauding  with  his  shrill  little  voice  and 
thin  hands  whenever  his  beloved  Tony  smashed 
huge  holes  in  the  line  and  the  backs  darted 
through  for  gains.  Day  after  day,  the  humped  - 
up  little  figure  had  followed  the  team's  every 
movement,  and  he  knew  the  strong  and  weak 
points  as  well  as  though  he  had  been  the  head- 
coach  himself.  He  knew  that  Lyndhurst,  the 
right  end,  played  out  too  far,  and  he  doubled 
his  fists  in  agony  every  time  a  back  shot  through 
the  line,  between  him  and  the  tackle.  He  saw 
83 


Little  Tyler 

that  the  right  half-back  was  too  slow  in  start 
ing,  and  that  the  left  ran  too  high,  and  hit  the 
line  sideways.  He  found  out,  by  the  way  in 
which  the  scrub  full-back  placed  himself,  just 
before  the  plays  when  the  'varsity  had  the  ball, 
that  he  knew  all  the  'varsity  signals,  and  he 
wanted  to  tell  the  captain,  but  did  not  dare. 
He  was  afraid  it  would  be  fresh  and  interfer 
ing,  and  he  thought  that  the  captain,  who  had 
forgotten  more  about  football  than  he  had  ever 
dreamed  of  knowing,  must  know  it  anyway. 
It  was  so  plain,  he  thought,  that  not  noticing 
was  impossible ;  so  he  sat  still  and  said  nothing. 
Between  the  halves  the  coaches  took  the  men 
off  in  one  corner  of  the  field,  and  talked  to  them 
earnestly.  They  gathered  in  a  circle,  with  their 
heads  together  and  their  hands  on  each  other's 
shoulders,  while  the  head-coach  stood  in  the 
centre  and  talked.  Little  Tyler  could  see  his 
arms  waving  up  and  down,  and  he  grinned  out 
of  the  sleeves  of  his  sweater,  for  he  knew  the 
coach  had  seen  what  he  had  seen,  and  was  try 
ing,  in  his  own  vigorous  way,  to  correct  it. 
84 


Little  Tyler 

It  was  the  first  day  of  November,  and  the 
chilly  autumn  winds  swept  over  the  field.  Up  on 
Dead  Head  Hill  -the  trees,  from  which  the  townies 
and  little  muckers  were  wont  to  see  the  games, 
waved  their  huge  arm-like  branches  against  the 
gray  eastern  sky,  like  the  tentacles  of  an  enor 
mous  octopus.  The  leaves  blew  in  little  whirl 
winds  all  along  the  fence,  and  the  windows  of 
the  clubhouse  rattled  and  chattered  with  every 
gust,  as  if  protesting  against  the  rudeness  of 
the  wind.  Sweatered  and  overcoated  students 
stood  with  their  hands  in  their  pockets,  shiver- 
ingly  waiting  for  play  to  begin  again;  and  over 
near  the  main  entrance  Jack,  the  keeper  of  the 
field,  seated  on  his  big  iron  roller,  was  swearing 
gloriously  at  his  cherished  horse,  than  which, 
as  he  explained,  on  every  possible  occasion,  there 
was  not  a  —  finer  —  horse  in  the  whole  —  town 
of  Ithaca,  by  — ! 

Little   Tyler   grew   cold   and   lonely  as    he 

waited.     He  tied  the  sweater  more  tightly,  and 

burrowed  down  into  his  overcoat.     He  wished 

some  one  of  those  freshmen  who  were  kicking 

85 


Little  Tyler 

that  borrowed  football  around  over  there  by  the 
goalposts  would  come  over  and  speak  to  him, 
and  treat  him  as  though  he  really  belonged  to 
the  class  and  was  somebody.  He  would  prove 
to  them,  if  they  would  only  give  him  the 
chance,  that  he  was  just  as  loyal  and  as  eager 
as  they  that  the  class  should  be  great;  but  they 
did  not  seem  to  care  what  he  thought.  He 
would  have  died  before  he  would  have  walked 
up  to  them  and  joined  them,  as  two  or  three 
other  freshmen  had  done,  and  as  all  freshmen 
should  do,  because  he  realized  his  infirmity,  and 
was  keenly  sensitive  to  their  observation;  but 
he  did  wish  that  one  or  two  of  them  would  come 
voluntarily  to  him,  just  because  they  wanted  to 
see  him  and  talk  to  him.  He  had  been  in  col 
lege  now  for  almost  two  whole  months,  and 
during  all  that  time  had  met,  outside  of  Torres- 
dale,  only  ten  of  his  class.  Every  one  knew 
who  he  was  because  he  happened  to  be  a  curi 
osity  in  college ;  but  his  natural  reserve,  coupled 
with  his  diffidence  and  pride,  had  made  them 
think  that  he  did  not  wish  companionship,  and 
86 


Little  Tyler 

they  avoided  him.  Those  few  who  had  talked 
with  him  liked  him  and  went  out  of  their  way 
to  send  a  morning  "  Hello  "  at  him  as  they  met 
in  their  classes ;  but  the  others,  simply  because 
he  looked  so  queer,  believed  that  he  must  be 
different  and  unlike  them  in  tastes  and  inclina 
tions,  so  they  had  taken  the  surest  course  to 
shut  him  out  from  their  hearts  and  fellowship, 
—  that  of  not  making  his  acquaintance. 

There  was  no  way  for  them  to  know  that 
Little  Tyler  was  sitting  with  Torresdale's  coat 
over  his  knees,  internally  crying  his  heart  out 
(and  biting  his  upper  lip  hard  to  keep  from 
doing  it  externally),  because  he  was  not  as  they 
were,  and  because  it  had  been  decreed  that  he 
never  should  be.  They  did  not  know  how 
many  nights  he  had  tossed  in  his  bed  and 
clenched  his  hands  to  prevent  himself  from  get 
ting  up  and  writing  home  to  say  he  could  not 
stand  it,  and  was  coming  back.  Torresdale 
would  never  tell,  because  he  never  knew. 
Little  Tyler  would  never  show  it,  because  he 
was  too  proud.  The  class  would  never  find  it 
87 


Little  Tyler 

out,  because  men,  never  looking,  seldom  know 
what  their  fellows  are  suffering. 

Most  men  who  had  passed  through  such  an 
experience  would  have  been  bitter  against  their 
class  and  its  members.  The  constant  ignorance 
of  his  existence  as  a  man  and  a  freshman  would 
have  driven  most  men  back  into  themselves, 
but  with  Little  Tyler  it  was  different.  He 
was  used  to  reticence,  and  accustomed  to  being 
ignored.  As  far  back  as  his  memory  reached, 
he  had  been  of  no  account.  He  could  not 
remember  when  his  little  misshapen  figure  had 
ever  produced  any  other  results  in  the  world, 
and  he  was  wise  enough  to  know  that  his  phys 
ical  appearance  had  made  him  unconsciously 
sensitive  and  proud.  He  knew  also  that  these 
were  two  reasons  within  himself  that  forbade 
his  breathing  just  the  same  air  that  his  class 
mates  did. 

But  as  he  sat  there  after  the  second  half, 

waiting  for  Torresdale  to  dress  and  join  him, 

his  thoughts  ran  riot  through  his  brain.     He 

tried  to  puzzle  it  all  out.     Why  were  things  so  ? 

88 


Little  Tyler 

Why  was  there  not  some  way  to  show  them 
that  he  was  as  much  flesh  and  blood  as  they? 
And  if  there  was  not,  why  were  people  made 
with  backs  that  did  not  fit  ?  He  had  been  very 
brave,  up  there  with  Torresdale,  when  he  had 
said  that  he  would  show  them ;  but  it  was  one 
thing  to  talk  and  another  to  act.  He  could  n't 
just  go  up  and  chum  with  them,  as  the  others 
did,  so  there  was  an  end  to  that.  He  could  n't 
stand  up  and  talk  in  class  meeting.  He  was 
sure  of  that.  If  he  stood  on  the  floor  he  looked 
more  bent  than  ever;  if  he  stood  on  a  bench  he 
looked  ridiculous.  What  was  there  for  him  to 
do?  Was  it  always  to  be  this  way?  Could 
he  never  get  into  their  hearts?  How  could 
he  break  the  ice  and  win  a  little,  just  a  very- 
little,  of  their  fellowship?  If  he  could  help 
the  class  in  any  way,  it  would  be  above  every 
thing  best,  and  he  should  like  that;  but  how 
was  he  to  help  the  class  ?  There  was  the  rush. 
Torresdale  had  told  him  to  keep  out  of  that. 
Torry  must  think  he  was  a  fool !  What  a  lot 
of  use  he  would  be  in  a  rush !  He  would  only 
89 


Little  Tyler 

be  in  every  one's  way  —  that  was  it,  —  in  every 
one's  way.  He  had  always  been  in  every  one's 
way! 

He  wondered  if  Torry  thought  that;  and,  at 
the  idea,  a  great  lump  rose  in  his  throat  as  he 
looked  forlornly  across  the  windy  field.  No, 
there  was  no  use.  He  would  always  remain 
the  little  bent  and  useless  hunchback.  No  one 
would  ever  think  that  he  amounted  to  Any 
thing.  No  one  besides  Torry  would  ever  want 
him  around.  It  was  hard,  —  it  was  very  hard,  and 
yet  he  was  afraid  that  it  was  awfully,  terribly 
true.  Of  what  use  was  he  ?  He  could  n't  even 
study  so  as  to  get  a  prize ;  and,  anyway,  what 
good  would  that  do?  He  might  just  as  well 
make  up  his  mind  now,  either  to  stay  and  stick 
it  out  and  be  miserably  unhappy,  or  to  go  home 
defeated,  which  would  not  be  pleasant.  Neither 
way  would  be  pleasant,  but —  Oh,  would  all 
his  life  be  this  way?  Would  he  be  always  just 
outside  and  never  just  in?  He  was  afraid  to 
look  forward  to  the  next  three  years.  If  a 
change  of  some  sort  did  not  soon  take  place,  he 
90 


Little  Tyler 

should  do  something  he  ought  not.  He  felt  it. 
He  did  not  know  what  it  would  be,  but  he 
should  do  it.  At  least,  people  would  notice 
him  then —  Oh,  what  was  he  talking  about, 
and  where  was  Torresdale?  He  had  been  sit 
ting  on  that  damp  ground  long  enough,  and  he 
should  be  here  by  this  time.  If  he  did  not 
come,  he  should  go  on  home  and  not  wait. 

Torresdale  came  across  the  field,  whistling 
gayly.  His  cheeks  were  red,  and  his  long, 
curly  football  hair  blew  in  the  wind.  Little 
Tyler  handed  him  his  sweater  in  silence,  and 
he  pulled  it  over  his  head.  From  its  depths 
his  big  cheerful  voice  plumped  out,  "Well  — 
what  do  you  think?" 

Little  Tyler  got  up.  His  legs  were  stiff  from 
the  cold  ground.  "  I  don't  think  I  can,  Torry," 
he  said  slowly. 

Torresdale  stared,  and  then  laughed.  It  was 
a  round,  whole-souled,  healthy  laugh.  "  Don't 
you,  indeed?"  he  said,  "/was  talking  about 
football." 

"Oh,"  said  little  Tyler,  wearily,  "Lyndhurst 

91 


Little  Tyler 

plays  too  far  out,  and  the  backs  are  slow. 
Let's  go  home." 

"Humph,"  grunted  his  friend,  "what's  the 
matter  with  you  ?  " 

"Nothing,"  answered  Little  Tyler,  "only-- 
let's  go  home." 

Torresdale  picked  up  his  football  suit.  It 
was  his  intention  to  be  armored  in  the  rush,  and 
the  oddly-assorted  pair  started  off  together. 

Going  through  the  archway  they  passed  Jack, 
on  his  roller,  and  the  big  guard  shouted  a  good- 
natured  inquiry  as  to  the  state  of  health  of  his 
horse.  Jack  rumbled  back,  seriously  advising 
Torresdale,  as  a  physician,  to  go  —  south  for 
the  winter,  and  Torresdale  chuckled  joyously. 
Back  of  the  gun  factory  they  left  the  road; 
and,  picking  their  way  among  the  straw  stacks, 
mounted  the  long  flight  of  steps  leading  to  the 
top  of  the  bluff.  Neither  spoke,  but  once  or 
twice  Little  Tyler  caught  his  breath  with  a  little 
quick  gasp,  for  the  climb  was  hard  for  him. 
Torresdale  heard  it,  and,  with  a  sudden  pang, 
called  himself  a  brute  for  forgetting  and  not 


Little  Tyler 

riding  home.  When  they  reached  the  spring 
at  the  summit,  he  pretended  to  be  most  thirsty, 
and  spent  several  minutes  in  hunting  for  the 
dipper,  while  Little  Tyler  sat  on  a  rock  and 
rested.  Then  they  started  on  again,  cross  lots, 
over  the  fields,  and  down  back  of  the  University 
buildings. 

That  evening  Torresdale  stood  alone  in  his 
room,  lacing  on  his  canvas  jacket.  His  mind 
and  heart  were  full  of  the  coming  rush,  for,  next 
to  his  fraternity,  he  loved  his  class  far  better 
than  anything  else  in  college,  and  to-night  he 
was  to  help  defend  its  honor.  But  a  few 
minutes  before,  Billy  Smith,  the  president  of 
the  junior  class,  had  stopped  him  as  he  came 
down  from  dinner,  and  told  him  that  the  whole 
class  was  looking  at  him,  and  that  he  must  not 
fail.  There  was  no  need  to  tell  him  that,  he 
said  to  himself,  as  he  savagely  pulled  at  the 
lacings.  He  would  —  tug  —  hang  on,  tug  —  to 
that  —  tug  —  flag  until  he  died.  He  guessed 
he  knew  what  an  important  part  he  played  in 
this  show;  and  if  he  did  not  do  his  share,  it 


Little  Tyler 

would  be  very  queer  indeed.  He  dipped  his 
hands  again  in  the  powdered  resin  on  the  table, 
and  gave  himself  a  little  shake,  just  to  feel  his 
strength,  and  sat  down  by  the  window  to  wait 
for  Billy  Smith  and  the  other  two  men.  Billy 
Smith  was  to  look  them  all  over,  and  give  them 
a  few  pointers  just  before  they  all  went  to  the 
battlefield;  and  he  had  told  Torresdale  on  no 
account  to  leave  before  he  came.  So  he  sat  still 
and  waited. 

Outside,  the  supressed  excitement  and  feeling 
that  had  filled  the  air  all  day  began  to  find  vent 
in  occasional  class  yells  and  howls  of  derision, 
as  a  group  of  sophomores  passed  a  knot  of  fresh 
men.  In  the  darkness  Torresdale  could  see  the 
figures  of  men  pouring  from  the  different  board 
ing  houses  out  into  Heustis  Street.  Some  went 
straight  down  Dry  den  Road  to  Eddy.  Others 
stood  in  bunches  of  ten  or  fifteen,  yelling, 
"Ninety  Blank,  this  way!"  or  "Ninety  Dash, 
this  way! "  A  few  isolated  men  wandered 
around,  trying  to  place  themselves  with  their 
own  class.  It  was  fun,  Torresdale  thought,  to 
94 


Little  Tyler 

see  them  edge  quietly  up  to  a  group,  and  duck 
and  dart  away  at  the  sight  of  an  unfamiliar 
face,  or  the  utterance  of  an  antagonistic  senti 
ment.  Occasionally,  once  or  twice,  two  groups, 
unable  to  restrain  themselves  longer,  charged 
together  and  developed  miniature  rushes;  but 
these  were  always  quickly  nipped  in  the  bud  by 
the  upper-classmen,  who  patrolled  the  streets, 
secure  in  the  dignity  of  their  extra  years. 
"Hold  on!"  they  would  command  grandly; 
"you  '11  have  all  the  fighting  you  want  later!  " 
The  upper-classmen  were  not  going  to  have  their 
fun  spoiled. 

Once  the  door  of  a  boarding-house  was  opened 
for  a  moment,  and  in  the  flood  of  lamplight  that 
fell  across  the  sidewalk  Torresdale  saw  Hum- 
boldt,  his  chief  opponent,  talking  to  five  other 
sophomores.  Torresdale  shut  his  teeth  hard. 
He  did  not  like  Humboldt,  and  Humboldt  knew 
it.  There  would  be  a  big  fight  there,  he  said 
to  himself.  He  had  just  time  to  notice  that  he 
wore  a  leather  belt  around  his  waist  before 
the  door  closed.  A  moment  afterwards-  two  of 
95 


Little  Tyler 

the  freshman  groups  caught  sight  of  him  at  the 
window,  and  yelled  to  him.  He  shouted  back, 
and  the  next  second  heard  them  give  his  class 
cheer  with  his  name  at  the  end.  It  made  him 
feel  cold  and  shivery,  and  it  made  him  shut  his 
hands  over  an  imaginary  flag,  and  say,  beneath 
his  breath,  "They  sha 'n't  —  they  sha'n't!  " 
Then  the  two  groups  moved  on  and  left  him. 
In  the  lull  that  followed,  he  had  just  time  to 
wonder  where  Billy  Smith  was,  with  H.  Lock- 
wood  and  Johnson,  and  to  wish  that  they  would 
hurry. 

Suddenly  from  the  darkness  below  there  came 
a  faint  little  cry. 

"Tony!  — oh,  Torryl" 

Torresdale  shut  his  teeth  with  a  snap.  In 
the  excitement  he  had  forgotten  all  about  Little 
Tyler,  and  for  the  first  time,  since  he  had 
known  him,  he  felt  that  he  did  not  want  him 
around.  He  did  not  want  any  but  able-bodied 
men  that  night,  he  said  once  more  to  himself. 
Why  could  he  not  have  had  more  sense  ?  He 
ought  to  have  known  that  he  would  be  in  the 
96 


Little  Tyler 

way.  So  Torresdale  drew  his  head  in  and  kept 
very  quiet. 

In  a  moment  the  voice  rose  again,  and  this 
time  it  was  thrilled  and  shrill  with  excitement, 
and  there  was  an  appeal  in  it  that  Torresdale 
could  not  forego.  He  swore  to  himself,  and 
stuck  his  head  out  ungraciously. 

"Hello,  Tyler.  What  do  you  want?"  he 
said. 

"  Oh,  Torry,  I  did  not  mean  to  bother  you  to 
night —  really,  I  didn't;  but  Billy  Smith  says 
for  you  to  come  down  at  once.  He  has  Johnson 
and  H.  Lockwood  with  him !  "  cried  the  voice. 

"  Oh !  "  said  Torresdale,  with  a  sudden  change 
that  did  not  escape  notice  below,  "wait  a 
minute." 

A  second  later  the  lights  went  out,  and  two 
seconds  after  that  Torresdale  stood  on  the  side 
walk.  "Come  on,"  he  said  briefly,  and  started 
away  at  a  tremendous  pace  down  the  hill  to 
Eddy  Street.  Little  Tyler  ran  by  his  side  in 
little  halting  jumps.  As  they  turned  the  corner, 
the  rising  moon  was  just  showing  itself  over 
7  97 


Little  Tyler 

the  western  hills.  It  made  a  silver  road  across 
the  black  lake  far  below,  and  its  light  streamed 
down  over  the  housetops.  In  the  centre  of  its 
strength  there  stood  a  mighty  crowd  of  sopho 
mores  and  freshmen,  surging  and  swaying  to 
and  fro,  and  exchanging  taunts  and  jeers. 
The  freshmen  were  huddled  together  in  one 
solid  crowd;  but  the  sophomores,  more  used  to 
the  situation,  were  spread  out,  and  laughed  and 
talked  together  to  show  their  confidence.  A 
space  of  about  thirty  feet  divided  them;  and 
seniors  and  juniors,  watching  warily  for  any 
outbreak,  held  them  back,  waiting  for  the 
proper  time.  The  faces  of  the  nearest  shone 
white  and  tense  in  the  moonlight;  and,  as  the 
whole  scene  spread  itself  before  the  two  men 
coming  down  the  hill,  they  paused. 

"That's  good"  said  Little  Tyler. 

"  Hurry  up,  Torresdale !  We  're  waiting  for 
you,"  some  junior  cried;  and  Torresdale,  for 
getting  all  else,  broke  into  a  run,  letting  Little 
Tyler  follow  as  best  he  might. 

"This  way,  Torresdale, "  yelled  Billy  Smith; 


Little  Tyler 

and  Torresdale  went  over  to  receive  Billy's 
explanations  and  his  own  last  instructions  with 
his  co-gladiators. 

" Sorry, "  said  Smith,  "I  was  detained.  Did 
Little  Tyler  get  you  all  right?" 

"Uh-huh!  "  grunted  Torresdale.  "Did  you 
say  to  take  hold  this  way?" 

"Put  your  hands  a  little  more  apart.  So! 
That 's  it.  Now  just  keep  your  wits  about 
you,  and  you  will  be  all  right." 

"Where  are  the  others?"  asked  the  guard, 
practising  his  new-taught  hold  with  his  friend's 
handkerchief. 

"  Behind  you.  They  've  both  been  coached. 
Now  remember,  Torresdale,  and  mind  Hum- 
boldt.  He  's  crazy  because  you  beat  him  out  at 
football,  and  he  '11  do  anything,  fair  or  unfair. 
You  will  have  to  watch  him,"  said  Smith, 
earnestly. 

"I  'm  not  afraid,"  answered  Torresdale, 
grimly. 

The  other  two  men  stood  waiting.  Johnson, 
the  taller,  was  a  loosely-put-together,  raw-boned 


Little  Tyler 

countryman,  .fresh  from  the  lumber  regions  of 
northern  New  York.  He  had  been  used  to 
handling  logs  and  men  all  his  life,  and  his  out 
door  work  had  made  his  muscles  like  wire  cords 
and  his  lungs  like  bellows.  Yielding  to  per 
suasion,  he  had  worn  his  room-mate's  football 
suit,  and  now  stood  looking  down  at  the  padded 
trousers,  grinning  at  the  figure  he  cut.  To  him 
the  prospect  of  a  rush  was  amusing.  Until  now, 
his  fights  had  been  with  drunken  Irishmen  and 
bearded  Swedes  in  the  lumber  camps.  This 
seemed  as  if  it  might  be  tame,  and  he  did  not 
anticipate  much  difficulty  in  doing  his  share 
toward  holding  the  flag. 

H.  Lockwood  (H.  to  distinguish  him  from  his 
brother,  of  the  same  class)  was  of  a  different 
type.  His  build  was  short  and  stocky,  with  a 
huge  chest  and  broad  shoulders,  and  the  even 
development  of  the  muscles  in  his  arms  and 
forearms,  visible  beneath  the  sleeves  of  his 
jersey,  showed  the  unmistakable  signs  of  gym 
nastic  training.  Lockwood  had  come  to  college 
holding  the  amateur  championship  in  boxing 

100 


Little  Tyler 

and  wrestling  of  three  Eastern  States;  but  as 
he  stood  by  his  classmate's  side,  and  looked  at 
the  crowd  in  front,  and  the  crowd  behind  him, 
he  gave  the  belt  of  his  corduroys  another  pull, 
for  he  had  heard  of  and  seen  some  college  rushes, 
and  he  did  not  feel  as  confident  as  Johnson. 

Torresdale  bent  down  to  catch  Billy  Smith's 
farewell  injunctions,  and,  turning,  walked  over 
to  join  the  others.  He  was  not  afraid,  but  his 
heart  was  beating  fast  as  he  looked  across  the 
clear  space,  and  saw  the  three  strapping  sopho 
mores  who  were  to  be  their  opponents,  loung 
ing  confidently,  and  idly  listening  to  a  couple 
of  seniors  with  an  air  which  plainly  showed 
that  they  felt  no  nervousness  as  to  the  combat's 
outcome.  H.  Lockwood  seemed  to  feel  the 
same  way,  for,  as  he  greeted  Torresdale,  he  said, 
"How  are  you,  Torresdale,"  and  then,  nodding 
toward  the  group,  "Husky-looking  beggars, 
aren't  they?"  Johnson  simply  said,  "Hello 
there,  Football ;  how  do  you  like  my  clothes  ?  " 
and  shook  hands ;  but  each  knew  that  no  matter 
what  the  others  felt  or  thought,  they  were  going 
101 


Little  Tyler 

to  hang  on  to  that  flag,  if  it  were  a  possible 
thing,  though  their  ringers  should  be  fairly 
pulled  off  their  hands. 

"  Mind  what  I  told  you,  Johnson.  And  you, 
too,  H.  Lockwood.  Watch  for  that  underhold," 
cried  Billy  Smith,  as  he  went  off  to  find  the 
captain  of  the  team,  who  was  to  start  the  rush. 

The  men  nodded,  and  through  nervousness 
Torresdale  nodded  with  them.  Lockwood  wiped 
the  perspiration  from  his  hands  on  his  jersey, 
and  said,  between  his  teeth,  "I  wish  we  were 
ready.  I  don't  like  this  standing  still. "  Torres- 
dale  nodded  again  in  sympathy.  Big  Johnson 
grinned,  and  said,  "  Lots  of  time,  boys,  —  lots 
of  time." 

Little  Tyler,  who  at  first  tried  desperately  to 
keep  pace  with  Torresdale  as  he  ran  in  response 
to  the  junior's  call,  had  fallen  behind,  and  now 
hung  around  the  outskirts  of  the  crowd,  watch 
ing  eagerly  everything  that  took  place.  His 
heart  was  banging  and  thumping  in  a  most 
startling  manner;  but  in  his  excitement  he  did 
not  feel  it.  He  noticed  the  group  of  sopho- 

102 


Little  Tyler 

mores,  around  their  chosen  men,  put  their  heads 
together  and  hold  a  whispered  consultation ;  and 
one  of  the  men  in  the  middle  of  the  ring  seemed 
to  be  explaining  something.  He  caught  the 
words,  "This  way,"  and  "They  '11  have  to  let 
go,"  and  he  edged  nearer,  hoping  to  discover 
something  that  would  be  of  value  to  his  class. 
As  he  drew  near,  one  of  the  sophomores  saw 
him,  and  yelled,  "Get  out  of  this,  you  dash 
little  fool!" 

"You  come  and  put  me  out!"  cried  Little 
Tyler,  bravely;  but  the  sophomore  only  laughed, 
and  said,  "Go  on  home.  We  don't  want  to 
hurt  you." 

Little  Tyler  turned  away  with  a  sinking  heart. 
"They  won't  even  touch  me,"  he  said  to  him 
self,  bitterly.  "Oh,  if  I  could  only  do  some 
thing!  If  they  would  only  give  me  a  chance. 
But  they  won't;  they  won't  even  touch  me. 
What's  the  use?" 

He  walked  across  the  road  again,  and  climbed 
to  the  top  of  a  tree-box.  He  could  see  over 
the  heads  of  the  crowd  there,  and,  at  least,  he 
103 


Little  Tyler 

would  be  in  no  one's  way.  Maybe  —  just 
maybe  —  during  the  rush  he  could  help  in  some 
little  way  or  other.  He  might  see  some  move 
that  the  sophomores  were  making,  and  he  might 
warn  his  class  in  time,  or  something  like  that. 
It  was  very  vague,  but  he  felt  it  best  to  stay 
where  he  was  —  for  the  present,  at  all  events. 
So  he  tucked  his  feet  between  two  of  the  cross 
bars  of  the  tree-box,  and  sat  there  waiting,  a 
little  ball  of  humanity,  with  a  fluttering  pulse. 

Suddenly  the  busy  humming  of  the  voices  of 
the  crowd  ceased.  Every  one  took  a  deep,  full 
breath,  and  braced  himself.  The  seniors  and 
juniors  drew  back  from  the  centre  of  the  open 
path  between  the  two  classes,  and  held  them  in 
check  as  the  captain  of  the  team  walked  out 
into  the  moonlight,  carrying  the  canvas  flag. 
He  stood  a  moment,  looking  at  the  two  crowds, 
then,  "Bring  out  your  men,"  he  said. 

The  three  sophomores  gave  their  belts  a  final 

hitch,  and  walked  out  to  the  centre,  wiping  their 

hands  on  their  trousers;   Billy  Smith  led  the 

three  freshmen  forward.      The  captain  of  the 

104 


Little  Tyler 

team  took  their  hands  and  placed  them,  one  by 
one,  on  the  flag.  Then  he  took  the  hands  of 
the  three  sophomores  in  the  same  way,  and 
placed  them  so  that  they  alternated,  freshman, 
sophomore,  freshman,  sophomore,  to  the  last 
man.  Then  he  stood  back. 

"Are  you  ready?  "  he  asked  slowly. 

Twelve  feet  planted  themselves  solidly,  and 
six  pairs  of  eyes  glared  across  the  flag  at  each 
other.  The  leaves  on  the  trees  lay  quiet,  and 
the  electric  light  on  the  corner  ceased  its  siz 
zling.  Every  one  held  his  breath;  and  Little 
Tyler,  on  the  tree-box,  leaned  forward,  with 
his  mouth  open  and  his  eyes  staring. 

"Go!" 

At  the  word,  the  three  sophomores  gave  a 
sudden,  simultaneous  jerk,  combining  all  their 
strength.  The  freshmen  stumbled,  lost  their 
footing,  regained  it,  and  the  crowds  behind  them 
swept  together  with  a  mighty  yell.  The  rush 
had  begun. 

In  the  very  first  struggle  H.  Lockwood,  fall 
ing  forward  with  the  rest,  doubled  the  hand 

105 


Little  Tyler 

that  he  had  stretched  out  to  break  his  fall,  back 
wards  beneath  him,  spraining  his  wrist  badly. 
The  sudden  pain  that  went  shooting  up  his  arm 
convinced  him  that  something  serious  had  hap 
pened  ;  but  his  face  gave  no  sign  of  any  mishap, 
and  it  was  not  until  he  found  the  grip  of  his 
right  hand  powerless  that  he  realized  what  had 
occurred.  Then  his  heart  sank.  He  knew  that 
another  jerk  like  the  first  would  break  his  one- 
handed  hold,  and  unless  help  came  before  then 
the  odds  of  three  to  two  would  probably  prove 
fatal.  He  braced  his  feet,  and  hung  on  dog 
gedly  ;  but  it  was  as  he  had  expected.  With  a 
sudden,  quick  movement  the  sophomores  turned, 
and  in  some  way  caught  the  end  of  the  flag  over 
Humboldt's  shoulder.  Then  they  braced,  and 
with  pulls  and  jerks  slowly  raised  the  three 
struggling  freshmen  clear  from  the  ground. 
The  crowd  yelled,  and  Lockwood  felt  his  grip 
slowly  loosening  under  the  strain.  In  a  few 
year-seeming  seconds  he  would  have  to  let  go, 
and  the  sophomores,  who  had  seen  his  injured 
hand  hanging  loosely  by  his  side,  redoubled 

106 


Little  Tyler 

their  efforts.  Torresdale  and  Johnson,  their 
eyes  almost  starting  from  their  sockets  under 
the  strain,  dug  their  heels  anew  into  the 
chopped-up  ground,  and  hung  on  grimly. 
Then,  just  at  the  needed  moment,  the  classes 
clashed  together,  and  a  dozen  eager  and  willing 
freshmen  hands  laid  hold  and  helped. 

With  the  meeting  of  the  crowds  the  character 
of  the  struggle  changed.  All  individuality 
ceased,  and  the  rush  became  entirely  class 
against  class.  As  a  whole,  it  was  good- 
natured;  but  the  feeling  that  prompted  it  in 
the  beginning  ran  high  in  spots,  and  here 
and  there  little  swirling  mele'es  broke  out, 
although,  in  the  main,  the  object  was  the  flag, 
and  no  one  paid  much  attention  to  individual 
fights. 

The  sophomores  pulled,  and  tugged,  and 
twisted,  and  the  freshmen  tugged,  and  twisted, 
and  pulled.  The  balance  of  the  sophomores  on 
the  outside  swung  around  in  a  half  circle,  and 
savagely  attempted  to  force  the  freshmen  down 
Buffalo  Hill.  The  freshmen,  seeing  the  trick, 
107 


Little  Tyler 

swung  around  also,  and  the  positions  of  the 
two  classes  were  reversed.  Then  the  freshmen 
became  savage,  and  with  many  howls  tried  to 
force  their  opponents  down  Eddy  Street.  They 
pushed,  and  panted,  and  fought;  but  the  sopho 
mores,  in  spite  of  all  their  efforts,  did  not  budge. 
The  crowd  on  the  inside  struggled  and  grappled, 
and  clambered  over  one  another  in  their  efforts 
to  break  the  hold  of  the  different  champions 
and  wrench  the  flag  free.  As  fast  as  a  sopho 
more  would  climb  upon  a  freshman's  back  to 
reach  the  bit  of  canvas,  two  freshmen  would 
seize  him  by  the  throat  and  drag  him  back 
wards.  Whenever  a  freshman  would  essay  to 
duck  under  a  man's  arm  to  get  nearer,  two  or 
three  sophomores  would  grab  him  by  the  heels 
and  dump  him  on  his  face  on  the  ground, 
whence,  as  soon  as  he  was  free  from  the  entang 
ling  feet,  he  would  spring  up  to  try  it  all  over 
again.  The  classes  rapidly  became  mixed. 
There  was  soon  no  freshman  or  sophomore  side : 
nothing  but  one  large,  pushing,  kicking,  gasp 
ing  lot  of  men,  all  trying  to  reach  the  centre  of 
108 


Little  Tyler 

the  crowd,  where  a  handful  of  the  more  fortu 
nate  battled  for  the  possession  of  the  coveted 
piece  of  canvas. 

For  fully  thirty  minutes  the  struggle  raged 
without  a  check.  Men  who  had  never  trained, 
and  often  some  who  were  in  the  pink  of  condi 
tion,  after  fighting  for  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes, 
came  staggering  out  of  the  mass,  reeling  like 
drunken  men,  so  fierce  was  the  fight.  They 
rested  for  five  or  ten  minutes,  and  rushed  back 
with  all  their  old  enthusiasm.  Along  the  edges, 
the  upper-classmen  lounged,  urging  on  their 
favorite  classes  with:  "Get  in  there,  Ninety 
Dash !  "  or  "  Eat  'em  up,  Ninety  Blank !  "  One 
group  of  juniors,  standing  closer  in  than  the  rest, 
pounced  on  the  resting  freshmen  as  they  made 
ready  to  renew  the  conflict,  and  catching  them 
by  the  arms  and  legs  tossed  them  high  over 
the  heads  of  the  crowd,  on  whom  they  fell 
with  telling  force,  bowling  over  sophomores 
and  freshmen  impartially,  and  causing  no 
end  of  fun  to  the  group  of  townies  on  the 
fence. 

109 


Little  Tyler 

Little  Tyler  almost  fell  from  his  tree-box  in 
his  anxiety  to  get  a  better  view.  He  had  seen 
H.  Lockwood  let  go,  and  he  had  groaned.  He 
had  seen  the  rushing  freshmen  reach  the  flag  in 
time,  and  he  had  laughed.  Now,  as  he  saw  the 
group  of  juniors,  he  was  seriously  contemplating 
climbing  down  and  requesting  them  to  toss  him 
also.  If  he  had  thought  that  he  could  have 
done  the  slightest  good,  he  would  not  have  hesi 
tated  an  instant,  for  from  where  he  sat  he  could 
see  that  his  class  was  not  having  the  easy  time 
Torresdale  had  predicted.  Indeed,  they  were 
scarcely  holding  their  own. 

As  the  tussle  went  on,  the  sophomores  had, 
unnoticed  by  the  freshmen,  been  gradually  mass 
ing  themselves  together.  Little  Tyler,  whom 
no  move  escaped,  saw  it,  and,  fearful  lest  his 
class  should  be  surprised,  cried  out  at  the  top 
of  his  thin,  high  voice,  "  Look  out  for  a  rush, 
Ninety  Dash !  "  The  butcher,  standing  beneath 
the  tree,  looked  up  at  him  curiously.  No  one 
else  had  heard,  and,  in  a  despairing  sort  of  way, 
he  settled  back  again  on  the  tree-box  to  watch. 
110 


Little   Tyler 

But  this  time  there  was  going  to  be  no  sud 
den  rush  and  attempt  to  force  the  freshmen  over 
the  hill.  The  sophomores  were  after  that  flag, 
and  the  scheme,  part  of  which  Little  Tyler  had 
overheard,  before  the  rush  began,  was  approach 
ing  its  fulfilment.  More  cries  of  "This  way, 
Ninety  Blank!  "  and  "Get  together,  fellows!  " 
brought  a  perfect  division  of  parties.  The  dozen 
men  nearest  the  flag  still  clung  desperately  to 
gether,  though  of  the  freshmen  holders  there 
remained  only  Torresdale.  The  other  places 
were  filled  by  men  who  had  fought  their  way  in. 
Johnson  and  Lockwood  were  still  in  the  thick 
of  the  trouble,  but  each  had  lost  his  hold,  in 
some  of  the  twistings  and  turnings  of  the  rush, 
and  was  now  trying  to  regain  it.  Dickson,  of 
the  sophomores,  had  become  completely  winded 
in  the  earlier  stages,  and  now  sat,  disconsolate 
and  unnoticed,  on  the  hillside;  while  Birdsell 
and  Humboldt  fought  weakly  to  regain  their 
old  positions. 

Suddenly  the  sophomores  around  the  inner 
circle  drew  to  one  side,  still  keeping  their  hold 
111 


Little  Tyler 

on  the  flag;  and  before  the  look  of  perplexed 
wonder  at  this  strange  move  had  died  from  the 
freshman's  eyes  the  others  fell  back,  and  up  the 
path  thus  made,  eleven  of  the  very  biggest  of 
the  sophomores  came  rushing,  formed  in  a  per 
fect  and  terrible  football  wedge. 

Little  Tyler  turned  faint  with  fear,  and  for 
a  moment  held  tightly  to  the  tree-box.  As 
the  solid  mass  of  men  broke  through  the  ring 
and  fell  upon  the  startled  freshmen,  he  saw 
Humboldt  drop  his  hold  and  jump  savagely, 
knee  forward,  full  at  Torresdale's  chest.  The 
big  guard  struck  out  blindly,  and  went  down 
like  a  ninepin ;  and  all  but  one  of  his  classmates, 
forced  to  loose  their  hold  under  the  furious 
onslaught,  were  pushed,  staggering,  back  among 
their  fellows. 

Then  Little  Tyler  became  delirious.  The 
next  thing  he  saw  was  that  a  sophomore,  watch 
ing  his  chance  in  the  mixup,  had,  by  a  quick 
movement,  jerked  the  flag  from  the  hands  of  its 
last  defender,  and  was  racing  madly  through  the 
crowd,  with  the  evident  intention  and  desire  of 
112 


Little  Tyler 

getting  free  with  his  booty.  The  freshmen  saw 
him,  and  with  him  their  only  chance  of  turning 
defeat  into  victory,  vanishing  into  the  distance, 
and  with  a  disappointed  yell  they  turned  and 
started  in  pursuit. 

But  the  sophomore  was  fast,  and  had  a  good 
start,  and  he  chuckled  as  he  ran,  forgetting  the 
old,  old  proverb  of  the  premature  crow.  There 
was  no  one  in  his  path.  His  course  was 
clear  to  victory  and  fame  —  save  for  two  small 
obstacles:  Little  Tyler  and  his  class  spirit, 
both  more  formidable  than  any  one  had  ever 
dreamed. 

Before  the  sophomore  was  fairly  on  his  way, 
the  hunchback  had  slid  to  the  ground.  He 
saw  that  if  his  enemy  held  a  straight  course  he 
must  pass  within  fifteen  feet  of  where  he  stood. 
So  he  hid  behind  the  tree-box  and  waited. 
TJiis  was  his  chance !  It  had  come,  and,  oh !  he 
must  not  fail.  He  would  show  them  now !  He 
would  show  them !  He  would  show  them !  — 
and  just  then  the  sophomore  came.  Little  Tyler 
leaped  out  from  behind  the  tree,  his  little  legs 
8  113 


Little  Tyler 

flying  back  and  forth  like  the  driving  rods 
on  an  engine.  The  sophomore  saw  him  and 
swerved,  but  not  soon  enough.  Little  Tyler 
was  too  close,  by  the  fraction  of  a  second,  and 
the  little  bent-up  body  shot  through  the  air 
like  an  arrow,  the  long  arms  wound  themselves 
tightly  around  the  sophomore's  legs,  just  above 
the  knees,  and  the  enemy  fell  heavily,  —  a  vic 
tim  to  a  prettier  tackle  than  was  ever  seen  on  a 
Cornell  football  field.  As  they  lay  together, 
the  butcher,  who  had  retreated  in  dismay  to  his 
shop-door,  saw  Little  Tyler's  hand  reach  out 
and  pick  up  a  piece  of  canvas  that  the  sopho 
more  had  dropped  in  his  fall.  He  wondered 
what  it  all  meant.  He  was  still  wondering, 
when  the  crowd  of  freshmen  swept  up  and 
surrounded  the  pair  with  an  unassailable  circle, 
ten  deep.  The  rush  was  won. 

When  Little  Tyler  opened  his  eyes,  he  was 
in  the  centre  of  a  vast  crowd  of  friendly  faces. 
The  air  was  splitting  with  howls  and  cheers. 
Men  were  dancing  in  each  other's  arms  and 
yelling  their  lungs  out,  and  above  the  most 
114 


Little  Tyler 

frantic  of  all  the  cries  the  name  of  Tyler 
crashed  with  a  yell  that  set  the  window-panes 
of  the  corner  grocery  rattling  with  fright.  The 
men  were  going  wild  with  joy,  and,  what  was 
more  surprising,  the  sophomores  themselves 
were  booming  out  their  own  class  yell,  and 
following  it  with  his  name.  Some  one  yelled, 
"What's  the  matter  with  Tyler?"  and  the 
crowd  came  back  with  a  bellowing,  "  He  's  all 
right!  "  that  woke  the  sleeping  echoes  on  the 
hillside  and  sent  the  fishes  of  Cayuga  trem 
bling  to  deeper  water.  Men  of  his  class  whom 
he  had  never  even  seen  before  climbed  over 
each  other's  backs  to  grasp  his  hand.  A  crowd 
of  the  more  thoughtless  wanted  to  throw  him 
on  their  shoulders.  Juniors  and  seniors  with 
moustaches  came  up  to  congratulate  him,  and 
his  brain  whirled  and  his  sight  dimmed  from 
the  confusion  and  strangeness  of  it  all. 

Then  he  understood.     Then  the  fulness  of  it 

came  over  him,  and  he  knew  what  it  all  meant. 

He  knew  that  the  flag  and  the  rush  were  not  the 

only  things  he  had  won.     He  knew  that  there 

115 


Little  Tyler 

would  be  no  more  ignoring,  no  more  leaving 
him  out,  —  no  more  suspicion  of  his  cowardice 
or  lack  of  class  spirit.  All  would  be  different. 
He  would  be  in  full  fellowship,  and,  as  he 
realized  how  much  it  all  was  to  him,  his  heart 
fairly  stood  still  for  joy.  What  would  that 
pain  in  his  back  ever  amount  to  now?  He 
could  stand  it  were  it  twice  —  no,  three  times 
as  bad.  He  had  shown  them.  Now  they  knew. 
Now  they  believed.  And  they  were  yelling  for 
—  for  him.  For  —  him  —  / 

Torresdale  knelt  beside  him,  stanching  the 
blood  from  a  cut  in  his  forehead  with  a 
sophomore's  handkerchief,  when  the  captain 
of  the  team  pushed  his  way  through  the 
crowd. 

"Tyler,"  said  he,  in  his  same  deep,  heavy 
voice,  "  that  was  the  nerviest  tackle  I  have  ever 
seen.  Where  did  you  learn  it?  " 

Torresdale  bent  down  to  his  ear. 

"Little   Tyler,    old  man,"  said  he,  "do  you 
know  that  you  have  saved  your  class?" 
116 


Little  Tyler 

Little  Tyler  looked  up  in  their  faces,  started 
to  speak  —  and  then  clasped  the  soiled,  ragged 
bit  of  canvas  more  closely  to  his  breast. 

"  There  's  class  spirit  for  you,  Torry ! "  said 
the  captain  of  the  team. 

"That 's  not  all,  Pop,"  said  Torresdale. 


117 


COMPANY  D'S  REVENGE 


COMPANY  D'S  REVENGE 

Drill  to-morrow  afternoon  will  be  at  the  usual  time  ; 
all  officers  and  non-commissioned  officers  should  be  posted 
in  Company  Drill  from  par  to  par.  The  captains  of  all 
companies  will  report  to  me  before  drill,  and  receive  in 
structions  for  the  sham-battle,  to  be  fought  on  next  Tues 
day.  Companies  will  line  up  as  follows  : 

A  B  C  D 

E  F  G  H 

WOLSEY  R.  BRAINARD,  Commandant. 


/nrvHE  next  morning  D  Company,  of  the  First 

Battalion,  was  angry. 

Now  at  Cornell,  drill,  though  a  trifle  below 
the  standard  set  at  West  Point,  is  no  idle  dream. 
With  the  exception  of  physical  wrecks,  athletes, 
law-school  men,  and  co-eds,  every  one  in  all  the 
university  must  grind  for  four  solid  terms  at  the 
manual  and  marching  movements.  If  a  man, 
no  matter  who,  snaps  his  fingers  insolently  in 
the  face  of  the  university,  and  loudly  denounces 
the  grind,  saying  that  he  came  to  college  to 

121 


Company  D's  Revenge 


study,  and  not  to  be  a  tin  soldier,  he  is  more 
than  likely  to  find  at  the  end  of  his  four  years 
that  his  cards  in  the  Registrar's  office  are  marked, 
1  Drill  0  and  2  Drill  0,  which  means  that  the 
university  politely,  but  firmly,  refuses  to  grad 
uate  him.  This  is,  of  course,  a  nuisance.  On 
the  other  hand,  if  a  man  drills  quietly,  and 
without  making  a  fuss,  the  university  is  so 
grateful  that  it  allows  him  three  cuts  each  term, 
and  a  leniency  touching  the  matter  of  sick 
excuses;  and  after  two  years  of  drill  he  is 
given,  as  a  reward,  the  right  to  demand  a  com 
mission,  and  to  become  a  lieutenant  with  white 
stripes  on  his  trousers.  Some  men  ask  for  their 
commissions  because  they  are  anxious  to  taste 
authority,  and  some  because  they  genuinely  like 
to  drill.  Most  of  them,  however,  sell  their 
uniforms  to  freshmen,  and  consider  themselves 
lucky.  This  commission  is  freely  given,  that 
the  companies  may  have  upper-class  officers. 

In  the  fall  term  of  each  year,  there  are  always 
a  great  many  freshmen  wandering  around  un 
tied,  who  have  never  drilled,  and  who,  conse- 

122 


Company  D's  Revenge 


quently,  carry  anus  with  the  trigger  in,  and 
order  with  one  hand  over  the  muzzle.  These, 
and  many  other  things,  must  be  corrected;  so 
the  junior  and  senior  officers,  and  the  ambitious 
sophomores  who  are  competing  for  "non-coms," 
take  squads  of  such  people  and  teach  them 
their  setting-up  exercises,  facings,  manual  and 
marching  movements.  Generally,  after  they 
have  gone  through  three  squad  drills,  they  are 
sure  of  their  own  perfection,  and  want  imme 
diate  assignments  to  the  older  companies.  In 
time,  some  are  transferred,  and  the  rest  are 
shuffled  and  cut  once,  that  there  may  be  no 
unfairness,  and  divided  into  four  companies. 
This  forms  the  second  battalion.  After  this, 
they  learn  company  drill,  and  frequently  exe 
cute  fours  right  and  fours  left  at  the  same  time, 
and  sulkily  blame  their  officers  for  the  confu 
sion.  Later  in  the  year,  they  learn  better,  and 
are  taken  up  in  front  of  Sage,  or  across  the  road 
from  the  armory;  and  sometimes,  when  the 
band  makes  fearfully-constructed  discords  in 
the  ball  cage,  they  try  to  keep  step  jerkily. 
123 


Company  D's  Revenge 


At  the  end  of  the  fall  term,  they  manage  to 
make  a  fairly  decent  showing;  in  the  winter 
they  talk  about  it;  and  when  the  spring  comes, 
they  entirely  forget  that  the  first  battalion  has 
had  sixteen  months  more  experience,  and  they 
become  quite  arrogant  and  cocky,  which  is 
usually  the  beginning  of  their  downfall.  I 
know  of  but  one  cocky  freshman  who  succeeded, 
and  he  was  "  busted  "  at  the  end  of  his  first  term. 
He  only  carried  ten  hours,  and  flunked  in 
English  1  under  K runts,  — though  that  has  n't 
anything  to  do  with  this  story. 

Now  in  the  spring  term  of  every  year  there  is 
a  sham-battle.  This  is  the  only  thing  worth 
drilling  for,  and  is  quite  exciting.  Townspeople, 
co-eds,  and  professors  stand  and  watch  it  with 
their  fingers  in  their  ears ;  while  hordes  of  stu 
dents  madly  fire  blank  cartridges  at  each  other, 
and  die  at  appointed  places,  —  generally  where  a 
lucky  friend  who  does  not  have  to  drill  is  wait 
ing  with  a  drink,  for  it  is  hard  work.  It  is 
quite  like  a  regular  battle.  Officers  in  slouch 
hats  and  leggings  ride  around  the  field,  gal- 
124 


Company  D's  Revenge 


lantly  waving  edgeless  swords,  and  yelling 
hoarse  orders  that  no  one  hears.  Men  lie  flat 
on  their  stomachs,  and  aim  at  the  whites  of 
each  other's  eyes.  The  band  plays ;  the  artillery 
roars ;  and  there  are  charges  and  counter-charges 
galore.  After  every  one  is  quite  tired,  some 
of  the  captains  and  majors  and  the  colonel  get 
together  behind  a  stump  and  consult  their  pro 
grammes  and  the  library  clock,  to  see  if  it  is 
time  to  do  anything  more,  —  to  charge,  or  re 
treat,  or  anything.  If  it  is,  they  go  and  do  it 
very  fiercely ;  if  it  is  not,  they  also  go  and  do  it 
very  fiercely,  —  so  that  either  way  every  one  is 
satisfied. 

It  is  customary  in  this  engagement  that  the 
newer  companies  shall  be  defeated.  This  prece 
dent  had  been  established  years  before  in  the 
days  of  the  first  sham-battle,  for  it  was  good 
that  the  under-classes  should  be  kept  down.  It 
is  now  an  upper-class  right,  along  with  frock 
coats,  high  hats,  and  the  upper-class  table  at 
Pat's.  As  it  had  passed  unscathed  through 
the  rigid  rule  inspection  of  three  detached  army 
125 


Company  D's  Revenge 


lieutenants,  it  had  become  fully  recognized  by 
the  university,  and  not  even  the  defeated  under 
classes  thought  of  questioning  its  absolute  just 
ness.  This  itself  is  a  great  deal. 

But  the  coming  of  Lieutenant  Brainard, 
U.  S.  A.,  and  the  cockiness  of  Company  F,  had 
this  year  turned  things  upside  down,  and  the 
whole  university  was  staring  and  laughing. 
The  battle  was  scheduled  for  the  following 
Tuesday,  and  D  Company,  the  flower  of  the 
whole  regiment,  had  been  chosen  to  be  among 
the  attacking  forces,  and  to  be  disgracefully 
repulsed,  with  loss.  The  blow  had  fallen  sud 
denly,  and  for  a  while  men's  minds  were  not 
thinking.  That  D  Company,  whose  drill  was 
a  thing  to  watch,  and  whose  rank  and  file  were 
almost,  to  a  man,  busted  upper-classmen,  should 
be  called  upon  to  suffer  ignominious  defeat  at 
the  hands  of  Company  F,  a  mob  of  half-drilled, 
undisciplined  sophomores  and  freshmen  com 
manded  by  a  farmer  from  the  Agricultural 
School,  was  unheard  of,  and  a  double  insult  to 
tradition  and  D  Company.  Men  at  first  went 
126 


Company  D's  Revenge 


around  with  dazed  smiles  and  uncertain  looks, 
not  knowing  what  would  happen  next.  Then 
there  came  a  revulsion  of  feeling;  and  though 
the  upper-classes  felt  insulted,  they  were  ready 
to  laugh  at  D,  in  case  defeat  should  come. 
This  is  the  way  men  do  sometimes.  F  was 
already  laughing. 

That  the  order  would  not  be  recalled,  all  well 
knew,  for  Brainard  was  a  martinet,  and  suffered 
no  protests.  There  was  no  relief.  On  Tuesday 
afternoon  they  should  be  disgraced.  Wednes 
day  morning  the  tale  would  be  in  every  one's 
mouth.  By  Thursday  it  would  be  history,  and 
Friday  night  beer  would  be  bought. 

In  a  hopeless  way  Fordyce,  the  captain,  had 
called  on  the  commandant  and  asked  that  they 
might  be  spared.  He  pointed  out  that  D  Com 
pany  were  older  men  who,  though  compelled 
to  drill  by  an  unfeeling  university,  should  not, 
in  his  humble  opinion,  be  subjected  to  further 
humiliation.  He  expatiated  on  the  general  good 
behavior  of  the  men,  and  said  that  all  felt  very 
strongly  about  it,  and  that  he  thought,  with  all 
127 


Company  D's  Revenge 


deference  to  the  commandant,  that  the  corps,  as 
a  whole,  would  make  a  much  better  showing 
if  D  Company  should  exchange  positions  with 
another  of  the  line  companies,  or  even  with 
Company  F.  Lieutenant  Brainard,  U.  S.  A., 
showed  his  teeth,  and  asked  questions.  Then 
he  said,  sternly,  that  under  no  conditions  would 
the  order  or  position  of  companies  be  changed; 
and  Fordyce  came  back  to  his  men  and  said, 
bitterly,  that  they  were  all  fools  not  to  have 
drilled  in  their  first  two  years,  and  that  he 
hoped  now  that  some  of  them  who  had  been 
coming  to  drill  with  tan  shoes,  no  gloves,  and 
some  other  fellow's  trousers,  would  see  what 
they  had  done  for  the  company  and  for  him. 
He  was  very  sarcastic,  and  the  men  listened 
meekly,  with  eyes  correctly  to  the  front,  until 
he  gave  a  savage,  "  Sergeant,  dismiss  the  com 
pany  !  "  and  walked  away.  Then  every  one  ran 
for  the  gunracks  without  waiting  for  the  com 
mand,  for  Puggy  Workman  was  first  sergeant, 
and  he  never  used  to  say  anything  but,  "  Skip, 
fellows,"  as  soon  as  Fordyce 's  back  was  turned. 

128 


Company  D's  Revenge 


Since  things  are  as  they  are,  it  is  not  re 
markable  that  upper-class  privates  hold  them 
selves  far  above  their  rank  companions  of  lesser 
college  age,  nor  is  it  strange  that  D  Company 
should  feel  insulted. 

The  men  reasoned  thus :  We  have  four  years 
in  which  to  complete  our  two  years  of  drill. 
We  have  a  right  to  choose  in  which  two  of 
those  years  we  shall  drill.  We  have  chosen; 
and  because  we  have  merely  exercised  our  right, 
it  is  rubbed  into  us  by  a  cheap -skate  army 
lieutenant. 

It  was  no  wonder  the  men  were  angry,  and 
lingered  in  groups,  discussing  ways  and  means 
of  avoiding  the  affront  to  their  customs,  their 
company,  and  themselves.  It  was  no  wonder 
that  the  ill-concealed  smiles  of  Company  F,  and 
the  open  guying  of  a  lot  of  law-school  men,  set 
the  stragglers  of  Company  D,  who  were  pour 
ing  singly,  and  in  twos  and  threes,  through  the 
gym.  door,  wild  with  an  insatiable  desire  for 
revenge.  D  Company  did  not  deserve  it;  their 
behavior  had  been  exemplary,  their  marching 
9  129 


Company  D's  Revenge 


worth  watching.  Their  fours  were  complete  at 
almost  every  drill.  Their  officers  were  efficient. 
Fordyce  had  been  six  years  at  Shattuck  before 
entering  college.  Allerton  had  been  a  sergeant 
in  the  Pennsylvania  National  Guards.  Bug 
Fulton  had  ranked  them  all  at  one  time,  but, 
being  too  lazy  to  work,  had  fallen  to  his  first 
lieutenancy.  Fuggy  Workman,  Monk  Cuth- 
bert,  Blake,  and  Johnson  were  the  sergeants, 
and  all  the  rest  were  picked  from  the  cream  of 
the  unfortunates  who  had  not  drilled  in  their 
first  two  years.  Moreover,  they  were  all  rep 
resentative  men,  holding  honors  among  their 
classmates.  Fordyce  was  Senior  President; 
Allerton  was  Sigma  Xi ;  Bug  Fulton  was  Senior 
Toast-master;  and  Puggy  and  Tommy  Easton 
were  on  the  Junior  Ball  Committee.  There 
were  few  among  them  whose  popularity  could 
not  stand  alone. 

Puggy   and    Johnson,    hot   with   wrath   and 
glum   with  impotency,   were  strolling   arm    in 
arm    to    dinner.       The    chimes    were    ringing 
130 


softly;  the  spring  twilight  was  touching  all 
the  earth  with  restfulness;  low  over  the  lake 
hung  just  the  faintest  suggestion  of  a  pointed, 
silvery  moon,  —  and  Puggy  and  Johnson  were 
angry. 

"I  can't  understand  it,"  Johnson  was  saying 
earnestly.  "Why  should  Company  D,  of  all 
companies,  be  singled  out  for  this  insult? 
What  is  Brainard's  game  ?  He  ought  to  know 
enough  about  the  men  in  D  to  know  that  they 
won't  stand  it." 

"  It 's  easy  enough, "  explained  Puggy,  bitterly. 
"  It  is  n't  Brainard  as  much  as  it  is  Sawyer  and 
his  gang  of  babies.  Sawyer  did  n't  like  the  idea 
of  his  dear  freshmen  being  beaten,  so  he  has 
gone  to  Brainard.  Now,  Brainard  's  on  crutches, 
and  F  think  they  have  a  good  thing  in  us. 
We  've  got  to  do  something.  If  we  let  our 
selves  be  calmly  pushed  aside  for  under-classes, 
there  won't  be  any  living  with  them.  It 's  bad 
enough  as  it  is." 

"  The  trouble  is, "  said  Johnson,  "  that  we  can't 
disregard  orders  and  charge  F  anyway,  and 
131 


Company  D's  Revenge 


Brainard  knows  it.  A  year  ago  we  could  have 
done  that.  Now  we  have  too  many  graduations 
at  stake." 

"You're  right,"  admitted  Fuggy,  gloomily; 
"but  something  must  be  done." 

"  It  will,"  replied  Johnson,  confidently.  "  Did 
you  ever  know  our  crowd  of  fellows  to  let  them 
selves  be  run  over?  " 

"We  might  kill  Brainard, " suggested  Puggy, 
savagely,  "or  we  might  thumbstring  Sawyer." 

"And  we  might  be  idiots,"  smiled  Johnson, 
sourly,  "but  we  are  not.  Talk  sense,  or  shut 
up." 

"  Who  is  that  on  the  bridge  throwing  stones  ?  " 
asked  Puggy. 

Johnson  looked  up.  "Blake  and  Tommy 
Easton,"  he  replied,  after  a  moment.  "  Wonder 
where  they  were!  " 

"They  were  n't  at  drill." 

"No,  I  noticed.  Yeaa,  Tommy!  Yeaa, 
Blake!" 

The  figures  on  the  bridge  waved  their  hands 
and  resumed  their  target  practice.  As  Johnson 
132 


Company  D's  Revenge 


and  Puggy  approached,  Blake  staggered  to  the 
railing  with  a  stone  half  as  large  as  his  head, 
heaved  it -over  with  a  grunt,  and  peered  eagerly 
after  it.  "  Smashed  it  that  time,  Tom,"  he  said. 
"Gosh,  look  at  the  hole!  Hello,  fellows,  did 
you  see  that  shot?" 

"Darn  your  shots,"  said  Johnson.  "What 
do  you  think  of  the  situation?" 

"Don't  know  what  you  are  talking  about," 
replied  Blake;  "but  both  you  lads  look  as 
though  you  had  been  struck  in  the  face  with 
melons.  Who  's  dead  ?  " 

"  Have  n't  you  heard  ?  "  gasped  Puggy ;  "  where 
were  you  two  fellows  to-day?  " 

"Cut, "said  Tommy,  briefly.  "Elmira,  last 
night.  Awful  time.  You  don't  happen  to  have 
any  ice  water  in  your  pocket,  do  you  ?  " 

Then  Puggy  explained,  with  Johnson  at  his 
back  to  help  him.  As  the  tale  was  unfolded, 
Blake  and  Tommy  swore  picturesquely. 

"But  won't  Brainard  change  it?"  asked 
Tommy. 

"You  might  ask  him,"  said  Johnson,  wither- 
133 


ingly.  "  Jack  Fordyce  jollied  him  for  over  half 
an  hour  to-day,  while  Bug  Fulton  took  the  Com 
pany.  I  believe  Brainard  told  him  to  go  to 
thunder,  or  something  like  that." 

"Jack's  all  cut  up  about  it,  too,"  added 
Puggy.  "  He  came  back  and  called  us  all  fools, 
and  nearly  bit  my  head  off  when  he  told  me  to 
dismiss." 

"Well,  I  don't  blame  him,"  replied  Blake, 
warmly.  "Jack  Fordyce  has  worked  hard 
enough  over  our  gang  of  loafers;  and  I,  for 
one,  think  it  a  mighty  mean  trick  of  Brainard 's. 
Why  can't  he  let  things  alone,  instead  of  med 
dling  with  affairs  that  don't  concern  him!  By 
Jove,  we  won't  do  it!  We  must  do  something," 
and  he  glowered  savagely  at  a  co-ed  across  the 
road. 

"Let's  all  get  together  on  it,"  suggested 
Johnson.  "There  are  four  of  us  here,  and 
we  '11  get  Bug  Fulton." 

"  Over  in  your  rooms  ?  "  asked  Blake. 

"No,  yours.     I  've  a  freshman." 

"  All  right,  here  's  Bug  now.     Hi,  Bug! " 
134 


Company  D's  Revenge 


Robert  Quarrier  Fulton,  commonly  known  by 
the  somewhat  less  elegant,  but  shorter  name  of 
Bug,  came  across  the  street,  savagely  kicking 
up  all  the  dust  within  his  reach.  One  could 
see  that  his  temper  was  ruffled.  He  was  a  tall, 
raw-boned  Kentuckian,  with  an  unreproducible 
accent. 

"  You  fellows  are  dandies,  I  must  say,  "he  said 
contemptuously.  "  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

"We  want  you,  you  skinny  Whiskian,"  said 
Blake,  soothingly.  "We  want  you  and  your 
absolutely  unswerving  support  in  a  time  of  need. 
We  are  going  to  get  out  of  this  hole.  Are  you 
in?  It  may  mean  trouble." 

"Am  I  in?"  said  Bug,  scornfully,  though 
with  glee  in  his  eyes  at  the  possibility  of  a  fight. 
"Ask  me?  What  is  it?" 

"We  don't  know  yet,"  answered  Blake. 
"  Fellows  here  are  coming  to  my  rooms  to-night 
and  think.  Be  there.  I  'm  going  to  eat.  So 
long,  fellows.  Come  on,  Johnson ! "  Blake 
had  a  way  of  breaking  off  a  conversation  very 
abruptly  when  he  was  tired,  and  no  one  thought 
136 


Company  D's  Revenge 


anything  about  it  as  he  and  Johnson  sauntered 
away.  Only  Fuggy  yelled  after  him,  "  We  '11 
be  there.  Half -past  seven!  "  and  Blake  waved 
his  hand,  without  turning  around  to  show  that 
they  had  heard. 

The  four  remained  leaning  over  the  railing 
and  talking  until  the  big  bell  on  the  campus 
struck  half-past  six.  Then  they  bent  their  backs 
and  walked  on  up  the  hill. 

At  dinner  they  met  Torresdale,  who  had 
never  drilled,  having  always  been  excused  on 
account  of  football  and  crew  work.  He  laughed 
as  they  came  in.  "How  well  trained  are  you 
for  your  run  Tuesday?"  he  asked. 

"Never  you  mind,"  said  Bug.  "You  're  not 
doing  it." 

"I  can  see  your  finish,  Puggy,"  continued 
Torresdale,  teasingly.  "Any  one  with  your 
wind,  too !  " 

"  See  here,  you  great  big,  good-looking  thing ! " 
said  Puggy,  good-naturedly,  "  I  '11  bet  you  sodas 
we  take  that  artillery." 

"Crowd?"  asked  Torresdale. 
136 


Company  D's  Revenge 


"No,  you  and  I." 

"Done,"  said  Torresdale,  and  the  two  shook 
hands. 

"You  're  just  that  much  poorer,  Torresdale," 
said  Tommy.  "Want  to  do  it  again?" 

"  Thanks,  but  I  don't  care  to  write  home  for 
more  money.  That  would  break  me  if  I  lost. 
Wait  till  next  Tuesday.  You'll  see,"  and  he 
clattered  up  the  stairs,  chuckling.  A  minute 
later  his  classmates  heard  him  howling,  "  Who 
wants  to  bat  out  fliyies?  Ay,  there,  Billy 
Wilbur,  come  ahead !  " 

Shortly  afterwards  the  three  fellows  heaved 
simultaneous  sighs,  and  rose  heavily  with  lighted 
pipes.  On  their  way  to  Blake's  rooms  they  met 
the  Freshman  who  boarded  at  Cascadilla.  The 
Freshman  had  been  at  a  military  prep,  school, 
and  on  account  of  his  excellence  in  drill  there 
attained  had  been  honored  by  membership  in 
Company  D.  When  he  heard  what  was  up,  he 
eagerly  joined  the  party,  and  four  strong  they 
swept  in  on  Blake. 

For  a  long  time  they  sat  and  smoked  and 
137 


Company  D's  Revenge 


thought  with  wrinkled  foreheads.  Scheme  after 
scheme  was  evolved  and  cast  aside.  Daring 
plots  were  made  to  steal  Brainard,  even  as 
they  once  had  stolen  a  freshman  toastmaster. 
The  Freshman  was  for  putting  jalap  in  Com 
pany  F's  food.  This  was  extremely  fresh- 
manish,  besides  being  impracticable.  Puggy 
wanted  to  hire  a  lot  of  townies  and  muckers  to 
shell  the  enemy  with  stones.  Blake  was  anxious 
to  adopt  the  Chinese  mode  of  fighting,  by  hav 
ing  three  or  four  men  throw  assafoetida  and 
other  ill-smelling  things  from  the  library  tower. 
Tommy,  in  despair,  thought  it  best  to  charge, 
and,  when  the  arraignment  for  disobedience 
came,  to  pretend  the  orders  had  been  misunder 
stood.  They  had  almost  reached  the  end  of 
their  rope,  and  had  settled  down  to  the  clenched- 
teeth,  by-Jove-we-will-find-a-scheme  way  of 
thinking  before  there  were  any  results.  Now 
every  one  knows  that  for  results  this  is  the  best 
stage  one  can  possibly  attain,  and  ten  minutes 
had  not  passed  before  Bug  Fulton  brought  his 
fist  down  on  the  table  with  a  bang  that  meant 
138 


business,    and  set  the  student  lamps   and  the 
window-panes  dancing. 

"  Whoop !  "  he  yelled,  "  I ' ve  got  it !  I ' ve  got 
it !  By  Jove,  fellows,  Company  F  will  be  the 
sickest  gang  of  farmers  Tuesday  night  you  ever 
saw.  I  —  oh  —  eee  —  wow  —  wow, "  and  he 
went  into  gale  after  gale  of  laughter.  In  a 
flash  Puggy  seized  him  around  the  neck,  Tommy 
pulled  his  feet  out,  and,  as  he  fell,  Blake  sat 
heavily  on  his  head  and  hammered  his  back,  ad 
juring  him  to  stop  laughing,  and  tell  them. 
The  Freshman  smiled  uncertainly  at  this  sacri 
legious  treatment  of  a  senior.  Bug  gasped  and 
choked.  "Let  up,  Puggy,"  he  gurgled;  "you 
are  choking  me." 

Puggy  took  his  arm  away,  and  Bug  went  off 
into  another  fit  of  laughter.  When  they  had 
pounded  him  again  to  silence,  he  sat  up  weakly, 
and  told  his  plan ;  and,  truly,  it  was  simple,  as 
he  told  it.  D  Company  should  not  only  cap 
ture  the  heights,  but  should  also  hold  them, 
and  their  flag  should  wave  victoriously  over  the 
enemy's  cannon. 

139 


Company  D's  Revenge 


It  was  glorious.  No  one  should  get  into 
trouble;  no  one  should  disobey  orders;  and  F 
Company  should  run  like  frightened  sheep. 
The  battle  should  go  down  to  subs,  sub-subs, 
and  subs  yet  unborn,  as  The  Stand  of  The 
Upper-classmen,  and  it  should  show  the  futility 
of  further  foolishness.  The  name  of  Company 
D  should  ring  through  the  future  as  the  up 
holder  of  precedent  and  custom.  It  was  cer 
tainly  glorious. 

When  the  first  enthusiasm  had  worn  away, 
Blake  suggested  that  they  take  off  their  coats, 
fill  fresh  pipes,  and  discuss  the  details  of  the 
scheme.  Bug,  as  it  was  his  idea,  lawfully 
assumed  command. 

"Tommy,"  said  he  to  Easton,  "I  want  you 
and  Puggy  to  see  and  sound  every  man  in  D 
Company  before  next  Friday.  Take  the  roster 
and  go  personally  to  each  man.  Report  to  me 
before  drill.  You  can  divide  up  the  work  as 
you  choose." 

Puggy  and  Tommy  nodded. 

Bug  went  on,  "  The  Freshman  must  find  out 

140 


Company  D's  Revenge 


how  many  men  in  Company  F  keep  their  uni 
forms  in  the  gym.  lockers,  and  he  must  also 
learn  the  numbers  of  those  lockers.  That  will 
not  be  hard,  for  most  of  Company  F  arc  in  his 
class.  If  he  needs  help,  I  will  detail  our  other 
two  freshmen  to  assist  him. " 

"Don't  need  them,"  said  the  Freshman, 
shortly. 

"All  right;  only  be  careful.  Don't  let  them 
get  on.  Report  to  me  with  the  lists  as  soon  as 
you  can,  for  stealing  the  combinations  from 
Doc.  Fitchtield's  oflice  won't  be  any  easy  job. 
However,  I  will  do  that;  and  I  wish,  Johnson, 
that  you  would  see  Fordyce  and  Allerton,  and 
tell  them  not  to  come  to  drill  Friday.  There 
is  no  use  in  more  than  one  man's  losing  his 
commission.  Blake,  I  want  you  to  make  what 
ever  arrangements  about  the  farm  that  you  can. 
See  that  the  covers  are  all  shut  down  on  Mon 
day  night,  and  be  sure  that  you  know  the  exact 
location  of  every  box.  There  is  apt  to  be 
trouble  if  you  don't,  you  know,"  and  Bug 
smiled  grimly. 

141 


Company  D's  Revenge 


"I  'm  on,"  said  Blake;  "don't  worry." 

"  Every  one  must  have  these  informations  by 
Friday,  at  four-forty-five,  remember,"  continued 
Fulton,  impressively,  "and  there  mustn't  be  a 
hitch  anywhere." 

"  Gosh,  I  would  n't  be  that  jay  captain  for 
love,"  grinned  Johnson. 

"Thank  goodness,  it  is  settled,"  said  the 
Freshman,  timidly;  and  every  one  smoked 
softly  for  a  few  minutes.  A  group  of  students 
strolled  by  under  the  window,  talking,  and  the 
five  conspirators  looked  at  each  other  and 
grinned.  The  captain  and  first  lieutenant  of 
Company  F  had  been  among  them.  They  had 
heard  him  laugh,  and  they  were  all  thinking  the 
same  thing.  The  minutes  stole  away  in  smoke 
clouds.  Soon  Tommy  brought  his  feet  from 
the  table  to  the  floor,  and  there  followed  a 
yawn  or  two,  and  a  general  knocking  out  of 
pipes.  Then  Johnson  arose.  "  I  'm  sleepier 
than  a  lecture  on  the  gas  engine, "  he  announced : 
"come  to  bed,  fellows."  The  others  rose. 

"Friday  afternoon,  then,"  said  Bug,  and  with 
142 


Company  D's  Revenge 


good-nights  the  four  rattled  down  the  stairway, 
and,  locking  arms,  swung  up  the  street,  musically 
bellowing,  - 

"  One-two,  three-four,  all  fall  in  line ; 
To  the  tune  of  our  Pro-o-fs  we'll  keep  strict  in  time ;  " 

while  Blake,  not  to  be  outdone,  roared  defiance 
through  a  tin  horn,  as  he  leaned  far  out  of  the 
window. 

When  on  the  following  Friday  the  last  call 
was  sounded,  and  Puggy  Workman,  resplendent 
in  new  cotton  gloves  and  a  real  shirt,  barked  a 
gruff,  " Company  D,  fall  in!  Right  shoulder  — 
grwow!  "  there  was  not  one  man  on  the  com 
pany's  roster  whose  piece  did  not  come  ringing 
to  the  order  as  his  name  was  called.  Only 
Fordyce  and  Allerton  were  missing,  and  Bug 
reported  to  the  commandant  and  took  charge. 
Puggy  and  Tommy  had  done  their  work 
well. 

Company  F  had  not  yet  formed.  Their 
officers  were  late,  as  usual;  and,  as  D  rattled 
by  them  at  double  time,  they  were  greeted  by 
howls  of  derision. 

143 


Company  D's  Revenge 


"Getting  in  practice  for  Tuesday?"  yelled  a 
freshman. 

"You  little  fool,"  said  Cuthbert,  in  his 
throat,  "your  skin  won't  be  so  white  by  Tues 
day  night,"  and  they  swept  on  savagely.  In  a 
moment  they  had  turned  into  Central  Avenue, 
and  a  "Column  half  right  "  and  a  "Quick  time, 
march,"  ringing  from  the  front,  faced  them 
toward  the  campus,  at  a  long  swinging  step. 
Bug  was  taking  them  back  of  the  library  to  the 
field  of  the  following  Tuesday's  engagement. 
Bug  was  foxy,  and  well  knew  the  value  of  his 
step.  The  criminal  who  sees  his  gallows  real 
izes  more  thoroughly  his  coming  disgrace. 

There  would  not  be  much  drill  for  D  Com 
pany  this  day.  There  was  too  much  to  be  said 
and  decided.  Outside  of  the  conspirators,  none 
of  the  men  knew  what  was  up,  further  than 
that  their  reputations  were  in  some  way  to  be 
saved. 

Bug  Fulton,  marching  by  Puggy's  side, 
chuckled,  as  he  turned  and  said,  "That  fresh 
man  and  the  rest  of  F  did  us  a  good  turn  down 
144 


Company  D's  Revenge 


by  the  armory.  Some  of  the  men  need  to  be 
just  a  little  madder." 

"  We  '11  get  up  another  small  demonstration, 
just  to  clinch  things,  when  we  go  back,"  replied 
Puggy,  out  of  the  corner  of  his  mouth. 

"Right!"  said  Bug.  "Guide  is  left,  men! 
Blake  says  the  boxes  are  all  right.  Twelve  of 
them  — all  full." 

"Holy  smoke!  "  grinned  Puggy,  as  his  imag 
ination  worked. 

"Fordyce  and  Allerton  never  said  a  word 
either.  They  are  all  right." 

"Are  they  on?" 

"  To  some  extent,  of  course ;  but  —  s-s -steady ! 
No  talking  in  ranks !  "  for  the  men  were  getting 
impatient. 

"How  about  the  Kid?"  asked  Puggy,  after 
saying  Hip-Hip-Hip  for  a  few  minutes. 

"Got  'em  all  except  two.  He's  a  good 
freshman." 

"And  you?" 

"Sunday  —  can't  do  it  on  week  days.  Flan- 
nigan  's  there.  Here  we  are.  Column  right. 
10  14& 


Company  D's  Revenge 


Haah !  "  and  the  file  turned  at  right  angles 
across  the  grass  between  Morrill  and  McGraw. 
They  went  a  few  rods  further,  into  the  shade  of 
some  trees,  and  then  fours  right,  halt,  and  rest 
followed  each  other  rapidly.  The  men  sat  and 
sprawled  over  the  green  grass  and  waited  for 
news.  Bug  let  them  wait  until  he  believed 
every  man  as  he  would  have  him.  Then  he 
began  speaking. 

"Men,"  he  said,  "you  all  know  the  orders 
that  Lieutenant  Brainard  has  seen  fit  to  give 
concerning  this  term's  sham-battle.  You  all 
know  by  this  time  that  we,  Company  D,  of  the 
First  Battalion,  and  almost  all  upper -classmen, 
have  been  chosen  to  bear  the  disgrace  of  being 
the  first  old  company  in  the  history  of  Cornell 
to  be  defeated  by  a  lot  of  freshmen  and  farmers. 
Let  me  point  out  to  you  our  places  next 
Tuesday.  Company  F  holds  the  keystone  posi 
tion,  —  there,  yonder,  in  that  row  of  trees  and 
bushes  on  the  hill.  Two  of  the  other  defensive 
companies  flank  F  on  either  side,  with  one  as 
a  reserve  in  the  rear.  A,  B,  C,  and  D  arc 
146 


Company  D's  Revenge 


down  in  the  hollow,  just  behind  the  library. 
We  are  to  advance  by  companies,  and  we  hold 
the  colors.  A  and  B  charge  G  and  H;  E,  the 
reserve,  charges  to  meet  B ;  but  C  comes  in  on 
their  left  flank,  and  stops  their  game.  Then 
E,  G,  and  H  are  to  surrender.  We,  the  color 
company,  and  the  best  of  the  lot,  have  orders 
to  charge  and  be  disgracefully  beaten,  losing 
over  three-quarters  of  our  men,  and  finally  giv 
ing  up  our  arms  and  colors  to  a  gang  of  freshies, 
sophs,  and  farmers  commanded  by  a  yahoo  whose 
main  study  here  has  been  '  Jones  on  Manure. ' 
Have  you  heard  the  jeers  and  gibes  that  Com 
pany  F  have  been  throwing  at  us  ever  since  the 
orders  went  out?  Have  you  heard  that  Brown, 
their  first  sergeant,  told  Jack  Fordyce,  who  has 
worked  like  a  horse  over  this  company,  and 
who  is  all  broke  up  over  this  business,  that  he 
ought  to  be  glad  the  defence  was  held  by  F,  as 
his  set  of  muckers  did  n't  know  how  to  hold  a 
gun  yet  ?  Have  you  heard  that  Porter,  another 
of  their  hay-gatherers,  told  Allerton  that  all  we 
were  good  for  was  breaking  stone  ?  [Bug  had 
147 


Company  D's  Revenge 


not  heard  any  of  these  things,  but  he  knew  his 
business.]  Did  you  hear  them  horse  us  as  we 
passed  to-day? 

"Now  the  question  is,  shall  we  or  shall  we 
not  submit  to  Lieutenant  Brainard's  stepping  in 
here,  fresh  from  West  Point,  and  upsetting  our 
old  and  settled  customs?  Shall  we  let  our 
colors  and  our  company  become  the  sport  of 
the  whole  college?  If  you  say  yes,  well  and 
good ;  but  your  officers  will  be  ashamed  of  you. 
If  you  say  no,  I  will  show  you  a  way  in  which 
you  can,  without  disobeying  one  single  order, 
or  losing  any  chance  of  graduating,  completely 
annihilate  Company  F,  and  stand  victorious  and 
avenged  on  the  top  of  that  hill.  Company  J9, 
attention  !  "  The  men  scrambled  to  their  feet, 
and  stood  like  statues.  Then  Bug's  voice  rang 
out  again  over  the  two  flushed  and  eager  lines. 
"I  want  every  man  who  will  stand  by  Jack 
Fordyce  and  D  Company  to  advance  two 
paces." 

The  two  lines  took  a  deep,   savage  breath, 

swayed,  and,  as  one  man,   stepped  twice  for- 
148 


Company  D's  Revenge 


ward.  Bug  and  Puggy  beamed,  and  the  for 
mer's  voice,  husky  with  loud  speaking,  still 
rang  triumphantly  as  he  thanked  the  men. 

"Now,"  Bug  went  on  more  coolly,  "I  want 
to  tell  you  the  scheme.  The  sergeant  will  call 
the  roll  again,  and  I  want  each  man  to  answer 
to  his  name,  and  state  the  number  of  cuts  he 
has  had  this  term." 

The  call  commenced,  and  from  Allen  to 
Zimmerman,  but  three  men  had  taken  their 
allowance.  These  were  Blake,  Tommy  Easton, 
and  Puggy. 

"Now,  men,  the  idea  is  this,"  began  Bug 
again.  "You  are  each  allowed  three  cuts. 
That  right  is  yours,  and  is  inalienable.  You 
can  take  them  when  you  wish,  and  —  there  are 
only  three  of  you  who  need  drill  next  Tuesday. 
I  —  "  but  the  men  had  caught  the  idea,  and, 
despite  all  discipline,  a  yell  went  up  from  the 
ranks  that  Company  E,  half  a  mile  away,  heard 
and  wondered  at.  Men  laughed  and  danced, 
and  flung  their  hats  in  the  air,  for  it  had  been  a 
terribly  narrow  escape.  Some  private  proposed 
149 


'  Company  D's  Revenge 


three  cheers  for  Fulton,  and  fifty  strong  young 
voices  roared,  "Hip-Yeaaa!"  three  times,  with 
a  Fulton  at  the  end  loud  enough  to  shake  the 
library  windows.  Bug  blushed,  and  Puggy 
smiled  benevolently.  Cheers  followed  for  For- 
dyce,  and  Allerton,  and  Company  D.  Then 
they  started  on  the  non-coms  and  privates,  and 
would  probably  have  been  yelling  yet,  if  Puggy 
had  not  reminded  Bug  that  Brainard  would 
probably  be  out  on  the  war  path  if  it  was  not 
stopped.  Bug  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his 
face,  and  brought  them,  grinning,  to  attention. 
Then  he  commanded  silence,  very  sternly,  and 
the  men  twisted  their  faces  straight.  Only 
here  and  there,  in  the  quiet  following  noise,  the 
sounds  a  man  makes  when  he  laughs  out  and 
stops  suddenly  popped  all  along  the  lines  like 
the  last  firecrackers  in  a  bunch.  In  a  few 
moments  there  was  silence  again,  and  Bug 
continued :  — 

"There    are    some    further    details    in    this 
scheme,  by  which  we  hope  to  teach  Company 
F  a  lesson,  and  place  them  where  they  belong. 
160 


Company  D's  Revenge 


We  want  volunteers."  Without  waiting  for  the 
word,  the  whole  company  stepped  two  paces 
forward,  laughing. 

"I  'm  sorry,"  observed  Bug,  "that  we  can't 
use  you  all.  Thirty  men  is  all  we  shall  need, 
—  I  should  like  to  have  those  men,  and  only 
those,  who  are  particularly  anxious  to  serve." 

Again  the  company  trailed  arms  and  advanced 
two  paces.  This  was  contagious,  and  Bug 
grinned. 

"Take  them  all,  and  divide  them  up,"  whis 
pered  Puggy;  so  Bug  did,  and  detailed  ten  to 
the  Freshman,  twenty  to  Blake,  and  kept 
twenty.  He  explained  to  them  that  they  were 
to  follow  their  leaders  implicitly,  and  that  the 
reason  a  freshman  had  been  placed  in  charge  of 
one  detachment  was  that  he  knew  the  details 
of  the  plans,  and  had  already  partially  worked 
one  of  them  out.  No  one  demurred.  This  is 
one  advantage  of  being  a  good  freshman.  It 
was  arranged  that  the  first  detachment  should 
report  to  the  Freshman  at  ten  o'clock,  Monday 
night,  in  the  gully  back  of  the  engine-room. 

161 


Company  D's  Revenge 


The  Freshman  would  tell  them  what  to  do  when 
they  got  there.  The  second  detachment  should 
report  to  Puggy  at  the  Stewart  Avenue  entrance 
to  the  cemetery.  The  rest  were  to  meet  Bug 
back  of  the  library.  The  first  line  of  "Alma 
Mater"  was  agreed  on  as  a  signal,  and  it  should 
be  answered  by  the  second.  They  were  cau 
tioned  not  to  use  any  lights,  and  to  make  no 
noise,  and,  above  all,  to  say  absolutely  nothing 
in  reply  to  the  sneers  of  Company  F  or  any  one 
else.  This  was  the  hardest  thing  they  had  to 
do,  but  it  was  necessary. 

People  remarked  that  day  on  the  swing  and 
life  that  Company  D  put  into  their  march  and 
manual,  as  they  came  down  the  road  at  the 
recall.  Lieutenant  Brainard  saw  them,  and,  as 
they  thundered  up  South  Avenue  at  double 
time,  turned  on  the  grass,  and  halted  together, 
with  the  precision  of  a  veteran  company,  he  bit 
his  lip,  and  began  to  wonder  a  little  if  he  had 
not  made  a  mistake. 

The  Colonel  of  the  regiment  came  up.  He 
was  a  tall,  handsome  fellow,  with  blue  eyes  and 
152 


a  brown  skin ;  and,  saluting,  he  asked  what  that 
noise  had  been  up  on  the  campus  where  Com 
pany  D  had  been  drilling.  Bug  returned  the 
salute,  and  replied  that  he  believed  that  Casca- 
dilla  played  Ithaca  High  School  at  baseball  up 
there  somewhere.  Then  the  Colonel  saluted, 
and  Bug  saluted,  and  the  Colonel  went  away. 

The  other  companies  were  coming  in  at  double 
time,  turning,  obliquing,  and  taking  their  old 
positions.  Hoarse  commands  followed  each 
other  in  rapid  succession,  and  the  ring  of  the 
pieces  coming  to  order  mingled  with  the  rattle 
of  the  bayonets  fixing.  Finally,  all  was  quiet, 
and  Lieutenant  Wolsey  R.  Brainard,  U.  S.  A., 
and  Commandant  of  the  Cornell  University 
Corps  of  Cadets,  stepped  forth,  flanked  by  the 
Colonel  and  the  Adjutant,  and  made  his  formal 
announcement  of  the  coming  battle.  It  was  a 
long  thing,  starting  with,  "Attention/"  and 
ending  with,  "  Dismiss  your  companies ;  "  and 
while  it  was  being  given  Company  D  glared 
across  the  grass  into  the  face  of  Company  F, 
and  Lieutenant  Fulton,  standing  stiffly  in  front 
163 


Company  D's  Revenge 


of  his  own  command,  winked  solemnly  at  its 
captain,  Sawyer.  Company  F  and  Captain 
Sawyer  smiled  amiably,  but  with  concealed 
malice ;  and  by  the  time  this  was  done,  the  rest 
of  the  two  battalions  were  madly  shouting, 
whooping,  yelling,  and  struggling  in  a  white- 
helmeted,  cartridge-belted,  bayoneted  mass  at 
the  side-door  of  the  armory.  Five  minutes 
more,  and  Bug,  Puggy,  Tommy,  Blake,  John 
son,  Cuthbert,  and  the  Freshman  were  tear 
ing  dinner-wards  with  surprising  speed  and 
spirit. 

If  any  one  had  chanced  to  pass  along  the  car 
tracks,  just  behind  the  university  engine-house, 
at  about  ten  o'clock  on  the  evening  of  May  19, 
189-,  and  if  any  one  had  stopped  and  listened 
very  intently,  a  few  subdued  voices  might  have 
been  heard;  but  that  would  have  been  all. 
Later,  if  any  one  had  thought  to  go  quietly  to 
the  little  ground  windows  of  the  bowling  alley, 
they  might  have  seen  lights  moving  here  and 
there,  and  lockers  being  softly  opened.  The 

164 


Company  D's  Revenge 


Freshman  was  doing  his  duty,  and  doing  it 
well. 

Meanwhile  Blake,  with  twenty  men,  good 
and  true,  was  doing  a  noiseless,  double-time 
across  the  cemetery  and  up  South  Avenue. 
As  they  reached  East  they  halted,  and  were 
ordered  to  separate,  and  proceed  singly  to  the 
rear  of  the  largest  university  barn,  for  a  great 
many  professors  live  on  East  Avenue,  and  pro 
fessors  rampant  are  not  good  things.  In  whis 
pers,  it  was  decided  that  if  any  man  were  not 
there  by  eleven  o'clock  he  should  return,  as 
best  he  might,  to  where  Bug  Fulton  and  his 
twenty  men  should  be.  If  he  were  lost  from 
all  the  rest,  he  should  whistle,  but  only  in  case 
he  was  lost,  as  the  signal  might  attract  atten 
tion.  Then,  in  a  dead  silence,  Blake  gave  the 
whistle,  and  Bug  Fulton,  up  behind  the  library, 
answered,  which  meant,  "All 's  well  —  hurry." 

It  had  been  agreed  that  three-quarters  of  an 

hour  after  this  signal   the   three   forces,   with 

their  work  accomplished,  should  meet  behind 

the  library  and   put   the   finishing   touches   to 

155 


Company  D's  Revenge 


their  labors.  Meanwhile,  Bug  was  to  post  a 
double  line  of  sentinels,  —  one  reaching  toward 
the  farm,  and  the  other  toward  the  armory,  —  to 
keep  watch  on  any  stragglers  who  might  be 
coming  up  or  down  the  campus  at  that  time  oi 
night.  Bug  himself,  with  Cuthbert,  remained 
in  hiding,  back  of  the  library,  on  the  hill  that 
Company  F  was  to  occupy  the  next  day.  If 
anything  went  wrong,  or  if  help  was  needed, 
either  by  the  Freshman  or  by  Blake,  a  report 
was  to  be  made  to  the  nearest  sentinel,  who,  in 
turn,  should  bear  it,  with  all  possible  haste,  to 
Bug.  It  had  been  rumored  that  Company  F 
had  been  acting  suspiciously,  and  a  surprise 
was  feared. 

The  two  watchers  waited  in  silence.  There 
was  no  moon,  and  the  night  was  black  as  ink. 
The  figure  of  the  first  and  nearest  sentry,  which 
had  been  dimly  outlined  against  the  horizon, 
was  swallowed  from  view,  and  even  the  college 
buildings  looked  like  indistinct  blurs  and  patches 
of  darker  black  on  black.  High  up  in  the  phys 
iological  lecture-room  of  McGraw  Hall  one  little 
156 


light  shone  forth.     The  assistant  was  doubtless 
correcting  examination  papers. 

Cuthbert  turned  and  looked  at  the  lights  of 
the  town  and  of  West  Hill.  Out  on  the  lake 
they  both  heard  the  chug-chug  of  a  steam  canal- 
boat  towing  a  string  of  barges  to  Cayuga.  Bug 
yawned,  and,  putting  his  head  under  Cuthbert's 
coat,  lit  his  pipe,  in  direct  violation  of  his  own 
orders.  Cuthbert  did  the  same  thing,  using 
Bug's  coat,  and  they  sat  for  a  long  time  in 
absolute  silence. 

The  clock  chimed  a  quarter  to  eleven;  and 
as  the  last  tones  died,  they  heard  the  sound  of 
voices  far  away.  "  Hark !  "  whispered  Bug, 
and  they  listened. 

"That  can't  be  Blake;  it's  too  early,"  said 
Cuthbert. 

Just  then  a  sentry  dashed  up,  out  of  breath. 
"Party  of  men  coming  up  Central  Avenue," 
he  gasped.  "They  refuse  the  signal."  Bug 
started  up. 

"Go  back  and  find  out  who  they  are,   and 
report  at  once !     Pass  the  word  to  the  others  to 
157 


Company  D's  Revenge 


keep  the  strictest  lookout.  Cuth,  go  and  tell 
the  first  of  the  farm  sentries  the  same  thing," 
said  Bug,  quickly.  "  You  '11  find  him  at  the 
first  door  of  White.  Hurry  back!  "  and  the 
sentry  went  one  way,  and  Cuthbert  another. 

Bug,  left  alone,  swore  silently,  and  bit  through 
the  stem  of  his  pipe. 

Cuthbert  returned  first.  "I  told  him,"  he 
panted;  "everything  has  been  quiet  up  there." 

"  We  did  n't  imagine  any  row  could  come 
from  that  side,  anyway,"  mused  Bug.  "But 
this  Central  Avenue  gang  —  you  '11  have  to  go 
over  there  and  investigate,  too,  Cuth.  I  'm 
sorry,  but  — 

"Wait,"  said  Cuthbert.  The  first  sentry 
came  tumbling  back.  "It's  all  right,"  he 
puffed,  and  sat  down  on  the  ground.  "The 
Freshman,"  he  added. 

"  Of  course!  "  said  Cuthbert. 

Beyond  the  library  the  whistle  echoed.  The 
sentry  answered  disjointedly;  and  ten  men, 
bearing  twenty  odd-looking  bundles,  swept, 
grinning,  up  the  hill. 

168 


Company  D's  Revenge 


"You  Indian,"  chuckled  Cuthbert,  "why  the 
deuce  didn't  you  answer  us?" 

"  Could  n't, "  breathed  the  Freshman.  "  We  'd 
just  passed  Prexy  and  the  Dean.  They  eyed 
us." 

"What  are  all  those,"  asked  Bug,  pointing  to 
the  black  bundles. 

"Uniforms,"  said  the  Kid,  nonchalantly. 
"All  of  them  did  not  keep  their  belts  in  the 
lockers ;  and  I  thought  it  best  to  make  a  good 
job  of  it." 

"You  blessed  Kid,"  whispered  Bug,  hoarsely. 
"  What  in  the  dickens  shall  we  do  with  them  ? 
Throw  them  down,  fellows;"  and  the  twenty 
uniforms  fell  in  a  heap  on  the  grass. 

"Looks  like  an  old-clothes  store,"  said 
Newton. 

"We  '11  have  to-  Hello!  "  said  Cuthbert. 
Off  to  the  left  a  series  of  whistles  was  heard 
and  answered,  and  the  next  minute  a  strange 
procession  turned  the  corner  of  Morrill.  Two 
by  two  they  came,  walking  warily,  with  pale, 
white  faces.  Each  two  carried  carefully,  be- 
159 


Company  D's  Revenge 


tween  them,  a  box  about  two  feet  square. 
As  they  slowly  and  gingerly  picked  their  way 
down  the  hill,  and  up  the  other  side,  the 
watchers  on  the  summit  held  their  sides  in 
ecstasies  of  laughter.  Blake  came  first,  carry 
ing  one  box  all  alone.  He  stumbled  once,  and 
the  beads  of  cold  perspiration  broke  out  on  his 
forehead  and  ran  down  to  his  chin.  Puggy  and 
Van  Cleef  followed,  looking  scared  to  death, 
and  behind  them  came  the  rest,  all  blue  with 
fright. 

"Jove!"  said  Blake,  with  twitching  lips, 
"I  wouldn't  do  that  again  for  money,"  and 
he  tenderly  set  down  his  burden  and  wiped 
his  brow.  The  others  followed,  and  every 
man  sighed,  with  a  sigh  not  wholly  of  physi 
cal  relief,  and  went  as  far  away  from  it  as 
possible. 

"You've  no  idea,"  said  Puggy.  "Seemed 
as  if  we  carried  those  dod-gasted  things  five 
miles,  and  not  knowing  what  minute  we  'd 
be  —  Brrr!!  "  But  the  other  thirty  men  were 
rolling  with  laughter. 

160 


Company  D's  Revenge 


"Any  one  hurt?"  Bug  asked  between  gasps. 

"  Tommy  and  Ted  Witherspoon  are  running 
yet,  I  guess,"  replied  Puggy,  mirthfully,  now 
that  he  was  safe.  "They  dropped  their  box." 
The  crowd  roared. 

At  last,  when  things  became  quiet,  Bug 
picked  out  places  in  the  bushes  where  the  ten 
boxes  and  the  uniforms  would  be  safely  hidden. 
Then  the  sentry  detail  went  to  work,  for  the 
others  would  not  touch  them.  After  they  had 
all  been  safely  stowed  away,  they  very  gently 
took  off  the  covers.  After  this  every  one  felt 
better,  and  went  home  quite  quickly. 

Now  a  day  in  summer  is  notably  longer  than 
a  day  in  winter.  Whether  the  hours  stretch, 
or  whether  there  are  more  of  them,  has  not, 
I  believe,  been  yet  entirely  decided,  but  it  is 
certain  that  the  day  following  D  Company's 
night  raid  was  longer  than  most.  That  is,  it 
was  long  until  drill  commenced.  After  that, 
there  was  so  much  going  on  and  off  that  the 
time  passed  quickly. 

11  101 


Company  D's  Revenge 


At  about  four  o'clock,  carriages,  filled  with 
people  of  every  sort  and  variety,  began  to 
appear  from  somewhere  and  disappear  campus- 
ward.  After  these  came  a  horde  of  towns 
people,  some  in  rags,  some  in  tags,  and  some 
who  doubtless  would  have  been  in  velvet 
gowns  had  it  been  fashionable  at  that  time. 
Little  muckers,  eager  to  see  the  fight,  crowded 
pompous  old  ladies  and  gentlemen  who  were 
anxious  to  view  the  evolutions.  Young  girls, 
with  eyes  fairly  dancing  with  excitement, 
chattered  among  themselves  or  to  their  escorts, 
now  and  again  recognizing,  with  many  hurried 
remarks  to  their  neighbors,  the  face  of  an  officer 
or  private  among  the  men  strolling  from  the 
different  fraternity  houses  to  the  armory. 
Groups  of  students  in  red  sweaters  arid  pipes 
mixed  here  and  there,  and  were  fearfully 
admired  and  imitated  at  a  distance  by  a  group 
of  Cascadilla  school-boys.  A  crowd  of  seniors 
who  did  not  like  noise,  and  so  would  not  go 
to  the  sham-battle,  were  knocking  out  flies  on 
the  green  just  west  of  the  gym.  and  yelling, 

162 


Company  D's  Revenge 


u  Let  it  go  -  "  "  That 's  mine,"  "  I  —  yi !  Pull 
'era  out  the  ether ! "  and  many  other  remarks 
of  a  similar  nature.  Out  in  the  middle  of  the 
dusty  road,  two  dogs  were  playfully  snapping 
at  each  other.  It  was  easy  to  see  that  the 
battle  would  be  interesting. 

In  front  of  the  armory,  all  was  bustle  and 
confusion.  There  seemed  to  be  some  trouble. 
The  artillery  was  ready  to  start  for  the  front, 
but  something  was  delaying  its  support,  Com 
pany  F.  Only  about  half  the  company  were 
there,  and  their  captain  wore  an  anxious, 
worried  look  as  he  talked  earnestly  with  his 
lieutenant.  Soon  the  lieutenant  disappeared 
through  the  armory  door.  The  artillery  grew 
very  impatient,  and  requested  Company  F  to 
smoke  up.  Company  F,  being  nervous,  took 
offence,  and  things  became  a  little  unpleasant 
for  a  while.  The  captain  fumed  and  lost  his 
temper.  In  a  few  minutes  the  lieutenant  ap 
peared  at  the  head  of  twenty  wild-looking, 
dazed,  and  ununiformed  men  —  the  rest  of 
Company  F. 

163 


Company  D's  Revenge 


"  Why,  you  idiots ! "  yelled  the  captain, 
"  where  are  your  uniforms  ?  " 

"  Some  one  has  stolen  them,"  said  a  sergeant, 
sullenly  saluting.  He  did  not  like  to  be  called 
names. 

"  Stolen  them !  "  echoed  the  captain,  scorn 
fully.  "Walked  right  into  your  lockers  and 
took  them  out !  I  don't  suppose  they  minded 
little  things  like  double  combinations.  What 
in  the  deuce  should  any  one  want  with  your 
uniforms  ?  " 

"  They  might  have  been  some  townies  who 
would  have  sold  them,"  suggested  the  lieutenant, 
cautiously. 

The  captain  turned  on  him.  "  You  make  me 
tired,"  he  said,  "  B.  Poore  himself  would  n't  give 
five  dollars  for  ten  of  them.  Those  men  are 
faking;  they  are  afraid,  afraid  to  buck  Com 
pany  D,  who  have  walked  all  over  us  for 
over  a  term.  Bah  !  Stolen !  "  He  turned  to 
the  troops.  "You're  good  soldiers,"  he  said, 
"it's  a  pity  you  can't  drill  and  haven't  any 
courage.  You  are  —  '  what  else  they  were 

164 


Company  D's  Revenge 


was  never  said,  for  word  came  from  the  front, 
through  a  panting  orderly,  that  unless  Company 
F  was  in  position  with  the  artillery  within  ten 
minutes,  their  place  would  be  forfeited.  The 
captain  savagely  ordered  the  unuuiformed  men 
into  the  rear  rank,  and  cursed  pathetically,  as 
the  motley-looking  angry  set  of  freshmen  stum 
bled  up  the  campus  in  front  of  the  rattling  gun 
battery.  Captain  Fordyce  and  Lieutenants,  Ful 
ton  and  Allerton,  with  the  remnants  of  D  Com 
pany,  were  already  on  the  field.  Puggy,  as  first 
sergeant,  had  promptly  ordered  Blake  and  Tom 
my  Easton  to  fall  in,  and  as  Bug  told  For 
dyce  that  he  knew  positively  that  the  rest  of 
the  men  were  going  to  cut,  Fordyce  smiled  and 
marched  his  three  musketeers  to  their  position. 
Lieutenant  Brainard  had  seen  them,  and  went 
to  inquire  what  all  this  farce  meant.  Fordyce 
looked  him  straight  in  the  eye,  and  respectfully 
told  him  that  at  the  last  moment  he  had  received 
word  that  the  rest  of  the  company  proposed  to 
cut  rather  than  to  be  humiliated.  Brainard 
chewed  his  moustache,  and  his  face  grew  red 
165 


Company  D's  Revenge 


and  white  by  turns.  His  impotency,  and  the 
knowledge  that  D  Company  had  been  too 
much  for  him,  made  him  angry,  but  knowing 
how  necessary  it  was,  to  him,  that  the  battle 
should  go  off  without  any  hitches  or  slow 
scene-changes,  he  told  Fordyce  to  act  as  though 
he  had  the  whole  company  back  of  him.  He 
said  it  was  necessary  for  each  company  to  act 
as  a  unit,  regardless  of  numbers.  Bug  knew 
this,  and  had  included  it  in  his  calculations. 
Then  the  commandant  went  away,  and  the 
company  grinned.  Fordyce  was  beginning  to 
feel  better. 

Lieutenant  Brainard  had  just  settled  down 
to  being  thoroughly  angry,  and  had  thought  of 
all  the  cutting  things  he  should  have  said,  when 
Company  F,  with  its  smartly  uniformed  front 
rank,  and  its  rag-tag  and  bob-tail  rear,  came 
straggling  on  the  field.  A  howl  of  laughter 
went  up  from  the  crowd  on  the  bank  as  the 
whole  absurdity  of  the  sight  struck  them.  Men 
from  D  Company  were  scattered  through  the 
crowd,  and  took  special  pains  to  keep  people 

166 


Company  D's  Revenge 


awake  to  the  humor  in  the  situation.  The 
men  in  F  were  blushing. 

When  Brainard,  from  the  centre  of  the  field, 
saw  all  this,  through  his  glasses,  he  gasped  with 
horror,  lost  his  temper  completely,  and,  walk 
ing  quickly  to  F's  captain,  asked  him  what  this 
dashed  foolishness  meant. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  said  he,  hastily 
saluting,  "  but  the  men  claim  to  have  lost  their 
uniforms." 

"  They  do,  do  they  ?  "  said  Lieutenant  Brain 
ard,  with  his  voice  trembling,  for  his  heart  was 
hot  within  him,  "then  you  tell  those  men  to 
get  out  of  the  ranks  and  hunt  for  them.  Send 
them  home  !  I  won't  have  them  around  !  You 
ought  to  have  known  better,  sir,  than  to  permit 
such  a  half-uniformed  company  to  appear  on 
the  field.  I  presumed,  when  I  gave  this  com 
mand  to  you,  that  you  were  competent  to  hold 
it.  You  will  report  to  me  in  my  office  to-night, 
Mr.  Sawyer.  I  shall  have  something  to  say  to 
you.  Send  those  men  home,  and  take  your 
position !  Are  we  going  to  wait  for  your  blun- 

167 


Company  D's  Revenge 


dering  set  of  dolts  all  the  afternoon  ?  Hear  rank, 
fall  out  !  Get  off  the  field  I  Company,  forward 
—  march  !  "  and  as  the  handful  of  men  moved 
away  shamefacedly,  Captain  SaAvyer,  with  a  face 
of  fiery  redness,  saluted  stiffly.  The  artillery 
laughed,  and  the  crowd  on  the  hillside  gave,  at 
Johnson's  instigation,  a  rousing  farewell  jeer. 

Truly,  it  seemed  as  if  D's  revenge  was  com 
plete.  F  had  been  held  up  to  ridicule  and 
shame  before  the  whole  college  and  town.  The 
humiliation  intended  by  them  for  Fordyce  and 
his  men  had  turned  as  a  boomerang,  and,  hurtling 
backwards,  had  fallen  with  unforeseen  effect 
into  their  own  ranks.  It  was  pitiful,  but  the 
worst  was  yet  to  come,  the  men  of  D  remem 
bered. 

The  battle  had  begun.  Sawyer  exhorted  his 
twenty  men  to  retrieve  themselves;  and  the 
men,  with  set  teeth  and  rage  in  their  stomachs, 
smiled  fiercely  as  they  thought  that,  in  spite  of 
all,  they  should  hold  their  position  against  their 
persecutors,  and  that  to-morrow  their  turn  would 
come,  when,  with  twenty  inexperienced  men 
168 


Company  D's  Revenge 


they  had  defeated  fifty  picked  veterans.  It 
was  not  so  bad  after  all,  they  said  to  each  other 
amid  the  din  and  smoke.  But  where  were  those 
uniforms  ? 

The  two  twenty-pounders  bravely  barked  de 
fiance  from  the  hill-top,  and  the  battery  threw 
aside  their  coats  for  better  action.  Men  darted 
from  gun  to  caisson,  carrying  ammunition,  and 
the  spongers,  dripping  with  perspiration,  gasped 
as  they  ran  to  their  guns  at  each  discharge. 
Along  the  lines  of  defence,  the  officers  were 
pacing,  cautioning  their  commands  to  keep  cool 
and  to  wait  for  the  word.  Orderlies  ran  here 
and  there  with  messages,  and  peering  through 
the  gathering  smoke  to  find  their  officers.  The 
air  was  thick  with  the  smell  of  powder.  Only 
the  attacking  companies  B  and  C  were  firing. 
The  others  were  silent,  waiting  savagely  until 
they  should  be  closer.  Not  a  wad  should  be 
wasted. 

Suddenly,  far  down  in  the  hollows  the  glint 
of  the  afternoon  sun  struck  on  an  officer's  sword, 
as  it  flashed  from  its  scabbard,  and  there  went 

169 


Company  D's  Revenge 


up  a  mighty  roar  from  the  hillside,  for  Company 
A  was  advancing.  The  men,  looking  like  a 
mere  handful  on  the  plain,  ran  a  little  distance 
over  the  rough  ground  and,  dropping  behind  a 
grassy  rise,  poured  two  volleys  into  Company 
G,  then,  rising,  ran  breathless  to  the  next  eleva 
tion.  There  was  a  deathly  silence  of  ten 
seconds,  and  then  one  long  sheet  of  flame  burst 
with  a  roar  of  demons  from  the  bushes  on  the 
right.  G  had  broken  silence.  In  the  oncoming 
lines,  some  staggered  and  fell,  shrieking.  The 
ranks  stopped,  wavered  an  instant  according  to 
the  programme,  and  swept  on.  An  officer  in 
the  rear  shouted  something  in  a  hoarse  voice, 
and  B  followed  A,  firing  on  the  right  flank  of 
H  as  they  ran.  Men  dropped  here  and  there, 
reeling,  for  H  replied,  firing  by  volleys  and 
doing  terrible  execution,  but  the  men  stumbled 
on  with  a  cheer  until  they  dropped,  breathless, 
by  the  side  of  their  comrades  of  A  for  shelter. 
Behind  them  all,  with  D  Company  and  the 
colors,  the  band  was  playing  bravely. 

D  chafed  with  impatience  and  eagerness,  and 
170 


Company  D's  Revenge 


fingered  their  triggers  nervously.  The  music 
sent  chills  of  excitement  shooting  up  their 
spines,  and  the  smell  of  the  smoke  made  their 
fingers  tingle.  For  the  fifteenth  time,  Puggy 
Workman  examined  his  gunlock  and  tested  the 
working  of  the  magazine,  while  the  officers  loos 
ened  their  swords.  Fordyce  showed  them  the 
first  resting  place  in  their  advance,  and  cautioned 
them  to  keep  their  heads.  The  men  nodded 
without  speaking,  and  felt  the  ground  with 
their  feet  as  a  runner  does  in  a  race  before 
the  start. 

The  firing  grew  slower,  and  the  billows  of 
smoke  lay  sluggishly  over  the  plain.  Suddenly 
the  artillery  ceased,  turned,  and  like  a  flash  of 
lightning  began  pouring  gun  after  gun  into  B's 
front,  as  they  lay  in  close  order  behind  the  hil 
lock.  B  yelled  and  groaned  and  sprang  to  their 
feet  with  a  howl  of  rage  that  rang  loud  above 
the  popping  of  the  small  arms  and  the  banging 
of  the  cannon.  The  dead  men  rolled  to  one  side, 
to  avoid  being  trampled  upon,  and  the  gaping 
ranks  closed  up  and  charged  up  the  hill,  laugh- 
171 


Company  D's  Revenge 


ing  in  the  very  teeth  of  G's  steady,  rapid  vol 
leys  and  the  raking  cross-fire  from  the  battery. 
E  company,  lying  in  reserve  with  fifty  men, 
none  gone,  swept  out  to  meet  them.  In  another 
half  minute,  B  would  have  been  literally  blown 
to  pieces,  but  almost  as  E  sprang  from  their  hill 
top,  Company  C,  which  had  crept  up  unnoticed 
in  the  confusion,  burst  like  a  hailstorm  in  the 
fog  on  the  reserves'  left  flank.  Not  knowing 
whence  this  sudden  onslaught  came,  they 
pressed  backward  fearfully.  Crash  after  crash 
of  well-trained  volleys  poured  from  less  than 
twenty  feet  into  their  surprised,  serried  ranks. 
Men  cursed  and  howled  and  groaned  and  groped 
their  way  through  smoke  so  thick  that  their 
course  two  yards  ahead  could  scarcely  be  seen. 
Guns,  useless,  were  thrown  away,  and  the  two 
front  ranks  grappled  hand  to  hand  and,  swerv 
ing,  gasped  and  choked  while  Company  B,  re 
lieved,  formed  again  and  charged  onward,  their 
men,  who  should  have  been  falling  like  wheat 
before  the  scythe,  stubbornly  refusing  to  die  as 
ordered. 

172 


Company  D's  Revenge 


Meanwhile  Fordyce  with  his  six  men  came  at 
a  dog  trot  to  their  first  grassy  hummock  and, 
stopping  an  instant,  fired  a  few  times  at  Com 
pany  F,  grinned  happily,  and  raced  on.  No  one 
seemed  to  pay  much  attention  to  them.  Even 
F,  their  natural  enemies,  were  using  their  might 
to  aid  in  stemming  the  current  of  B's  charge, 
and  did  not  seem  to  see  them.  Not  until  they 
had  arisen  and  had  almost  reached  another  spot 
of  vantage  ground,  did  any  one  in  all  that  crowd 
on  the  hill  seem  to  know  them.  Then  suddenly 
Newton,  standing  with  a  knot  of  his  classmates, 
gave  a  yell,  and  a  moment  later  the  crowd 
caught  sight  of  them  and,  led  by  Newton, 
cheered  with  a  mighty  "  Cornell,  I  yell,  yell, 
yell,  Cornell !  D  !  D  !  D  !  " 

The  men  heard  it  and  chuckled,  and  Blake 
raised  the  colors  from  their  leathern  socket  and 
waved  them.  Then  the  six  dropped  panting  to 
the  ground,  and  commenced  again  on  F.  Be 
tween  the  volleys,  Fuggy  spoke,  "  I  wonder 
what  the  matter  is  ?  " 

"  Give  'em  time,"  said  Tommy.  "  They 
173 


Company  D's  Revenge 


haven't  waked  yet.  In  a  few  minutes  there 
will  be  worse  yells  than  a  T.  N.  E.  swing." 

"  I  feel  like  the  'Drums  of  the  Fore  and  Aft,'  " 
grunted  Blake,  waving  his  flag  furiously  as  the 
two  rifles  cracked  at  once. 

"Look,  fellows,"  said  Fordyce,  pointing 
through  a  rift  in  the  drifting  smoke  clouds, 
"  G  has  struck  her  colors  —  she  's  surrendered, 
and  to  B,  too." 

"Look  at  Barker's  gang,  scrapping  with 
E ! "  cried  Blake,  delightedly,  the  next  minute. 
"  Gosh !  see  Darwin  hit  that  dago." 

"H  has  already  gone  under,"  said  Bug. 
"  That  leaves  E  yet,  and  the  artillery.  E  will 
give  up  in  a  minute  or  two,  and  the  others  are 
likely  to  run  at  any  moment  now  —  unless  all 
our  plans  are  wrong.  Their  end  approaches  the 
second  they  begin  to  move  around  that  clump 
of  bushes.  When  we  get  by  that  pile  of  stones 
over  there,  and  they  see  us,  they  will  have 
to  change  position  slightly  to  get  a  line  on  us. 
When  that  artillery  shifts,  some  one  is  sure  to 
hit  one  of  those  boxes,  and  they  must  be  fairly 
174 


Company  D's  Revenge 


alive  by  this  time.  You  '11  see.  Let 's  go  on, 
Jack." 

"  I  'm  due  to  die  by  this  next  bush,"  said 
Fuggy,  mournfully,  as  they  ran  on  over  the 
rough  ground.  "  I  've  half  a  mind  not  to.  If 
I  do,  I  '11  lose  all  the  fun." 

"  You  die  where  you  're  told  to,  Fuggy,"  said 
Allerton,  sternly.  "  You  fellows  have  been  in 
enough  deviltry  already.  It  will  look  a  great 
deal  better,  and  you  will  stand  better  chances  of 
getting  out  without  a  bust,  if  you  do  as  you  're 
told  now." 

"  Wait  and  die  with  me,"  suggested  Tommy. 
"Johnson  is  going  to  be  there  with  pipes  and 
water,  and  we  '11  watch  the  victory.  No  one 
will  notice.  It 's  just  beyond  this  next  tree 
here  in  the  shade.  Yeaaa !  Johnson !  See 
him  ?  "  Johnson  waved  his  hand. 

"  All  right,"  said  Fuggy.  "  I  suppose  that 's 
all  right,  is  n't  it,  Allerton  ?  Might  as  well?  " 
Allerton  nodded. 

"  Give  Blake  your  gun  before  you  go,"  said 
Fordyce,  looking  around.  "  Some  one  Js  got  to 
175 


Company  D's  Revenge 


keep  up  the  firing,  you  know.  Allerton,  you 
take  the  colors."  Puggy  and  Tommy  dropped 
dead  with  a  sigh,  and  crawled  over  to  Johnson 
and  the  water.  Blake,  whose  heart  had  been 
yearning  for  a  gun  ever  since  the  advance  com 
menced,  began  loading  and  firing  with  amazing 
rapidity. 

"  There  goes  E,"  cried  Bug  to  Fordyce  ;  "  I 
told  you.  Now!  Come  on!" 

"  Hold  on ! "  ordered  Fordyce,  "  who  is 
commanding  here?  Steady.  Wait  until  E 
gets  out  of  the  way,  and  then  around  to  the 
right,  so  they  will  be  forced  to  move  to  reach  us. 
Yell  as  you  run.  Fire  as  often  as  you  can, 
Blake,  and,  the  rest  of  you,  use  both  your 
revolvers.  We  've  got  to  make  them  see  us 
soon.  Wait !  Easy  there,  Blake  —  wait  till  — 
now  —  don't  go  too  fast  —  give  them  time  ! 
Charge  > " 

With  a  whoop  of  savage  anticipation,  the  four 

men  swept  over  the  rising  land  and,  turning, 

ran  slightly  to  the  east.     Fordyce  led,  his  sword 

in  one  hand  and  a  fiercely  snapping  Colt  in  the 

176 


Company  D's  Revenge 


other.  Allerton  and  Bug,  with  the  flag  and  one 
revolver,  were  close  seconds.  Blake,  having  the 
heaviest  load,  brought  up  the  rear,  and,  loading 
in  a  jolty,  disjointed  sort  of  way,  poured  shot 
after  shot  into  the  middle  of  Fordyce's  back, 
and  tore  the  air  with  blood-curdling  cries.  The 
crowd  on  the  bank  doubled  up  with  laughter  as 
the  strange  cavalcade  came  near.  Even  the 
staid  old  professors  who  had  brought  their 
wives  smiled  intellectually.  Some  of  the 
blacksmith  instructors  went  wild  with  joy,  and 
a  civil  engineer  became  so  excited  that  he 
clapped  one  of  the  assistants  in  chemistry  on 
the  shoulder,  and  swore  hurriedly  in  Spanish. 
The  sight  was  certainly  most  absurd,  and  Lieu 
tenant  Brainard,  U.  S.  A.,  stood  aghast.  Four 
men  with  lolling  tongues  charging  a  battery 
and  fifty  was  something  quite  unprecedented. 
Those  next  him  heard  him  say  things  under  his 
breath  that  he  never  would  have  said,  had  he 
remembered  they  were  there.  In  a  dazed  way, 
he  searched  his  memory  for  any  mention  of  the 
regulations  applicable  in  such  a  case,  and  for  the 
12  177 


Company  D's  Revenge 


first  time  his  faith  in  himself  wavered.  This 
was  good. 

The  next  instant  F  caught  sight  of  them,  and 
Sawyer  and  the  captain  of  the  artillery  gave  a 
few  quick  orders.  The  men  turned  and,  fol 
lowed  by  the  battery,  raced  across  the  hill, 
through  the  bushes,  that  they  might  form  to 
charge  when  the  time  should  come.  As  they 
hurried,  some  fell  over  square  boxes  that  for 
some  reason  were  hidden  in  the  bushes.  The 
two  cannons  in  their  race  upset  five,  and  the 
captain  of  the  artillery,  pausing  a  moment  out 
of  mere  curiosity,  was  seen  to  rise  quickly  from 
his  stooping  position  of  investigation,  and  beat 
the  air  madly  with  his  sabre,  and,  for  some  un 
accountable  reason,  to  turn  back  in  the  other 
direction.  The  men  of  F  were  loading  with  a 
viciousness  that  boded  ill  to  the  chuckling  four 
in  the  hollow  between  the  hills.  Sawyer  went 
from  man  to  man,  muttering,  "  Remember  those 
uniforms,  men,"  and  each  man  scowled  angrily 
and  gripped  his  gun,  while  waiting  for  the  word. 

The  charging  four  had  slackened  their  pace 
178 


Company  D's  Revenge 


somewhat.  Fordyce  bad  seen  the  preparations 
for  the  charge,  and,  not  wishing  to  be  surrounded 
by  a  company  so  vastly  his  superior  in  numbers, 
was  holding  back. 

The  artillery  began  to  load.  F  was  waiting 
also.  The  watchers  of  D  Company  on  the  hill 
side  began  to  hold  their  breaths. 

"  Heavens !  "  said  Newton,  nervously,  "  I 
wish  they  'd  get  to  work.  I  've  been  five  min 
utes  ahead  of  a  fit  ever  since  they  came  across 
the  hill." 

Suddenly  one  man  in  Company  F  was  seen 
to  drop  his  gun  and  wave  his  arms  wildly. 
Another  followed  with  a  yell  of  pain.  Then 
one  took  off  his  hat  and  began  to  brandish  it 
up  and  down,  in  a  manner  totally  inexplicable 
to  the  spectators.  The  others  followed  quickly, 
and  the  contagion  spread  to  the  artillery.  Its 
captain,  far  away  in  safety  on  the  hillside,  with 
the  crowd,  chuckled  wickedly  as  he  saw  it. 
Then  there  followed  a  ludicrous  sight.  Man 
after  man  threw  his  gun  down  and,  dancing 
madly  up  and  down,  struck  viciously  around 
179 


Company  D's  Revenge. 


him,  now  with  his  helmet,  now  with  his  hands. 
Yells  of  pain,  real  pain  this  time,  went  up  from 
over  fifty  voices.  Men  ran  blindly  for  a  few 
feet  and,  turning,  struck  madly  at  nothing. 
One  man  lay  down  on  the  ground  and  threw 
his  coat  over  his  head  and  hands.  A  moment 
later  he  fled,  howling  and  limping.  A  peculiar 
buzzing  sound  filled  his  ears,  and  in  half  a 
second  more  the  cry  of  "  Bees !  Bees  !  Run  !  " 
reached  the  four  men  of  D  Company,  who  were 
by  this  time  rolling  and  gasping  on  the  grass. 

Panic-stricken  F  and  the  artillery,  led  by  the 
doughty  Sawyer,  fled  down  the  hill,  followed 
by  a  cloud  of  bees  that  made  the  very  air  black. 
There  were  big  bees  and  little  bees  and  old 
bees  and  young  bees,  all  flying,  fighting,  sting 
ing  mad,  and  after  the  blood  of  Company  F, 
who  had  so  presumptuously  dared  to  disturb 
their  rest.  In  vain  F  dodged  and  turned.  In 
vain  they  beat  the  air.  For  every  bee  they 
crushed  to  earth  a  dozen  rose  again.  Every 
ally  that  Blake  and  his  companions  had  so 
gingerly  and  diplomatically  brought  from  the 
180 


Company  D's  Revenge 


university  farm  was  doing  its  full  duty.  The 
retreat,  which  never  had  shown  the  slightest 
indication  of  being  more  dignified  than  a  flight, 
now  became  a  wild,  disgraceful,  stumbling  run. 
Some  fled  east,  some  west,  and  some  north,  and 
the  bees,  with  infinite  cunning,  separated  into 
three  divisions  and  followed,  until  they  reached 
shelter. 

Then  the  four  heroes  jogged  leisurely  to  the 
hill  and,  capturing  the  enemy's  standard,  placed 
their  own  floating  above  the  battery.  The 
band,  corralled  by  Puggy  and  Tommy,  who  had 
firmly  refused  to  remain  longer  dead,  marched 
up,  bravely  playing,  "  See  the  Conquering  Hero 
Comes !  "  and  as  the  rest  of  the  company  who 
had  cut  joined  the  uniformed  forces,  a  cheer 
went  up  from  all  the  upper-classes  that  made 
the  heavens  tremble  and  the  sun  wince. 
Fordyce,  Allerton,  Bug,  and  Blake  were  thrown 
up  shoulder  high  and  by  a  dozen  hands.  Look 
ing  down  on  the  sea  of  faces,  each  made  a 
speech.  Then  the  crowd  joined  hands  and 
danced  around  them  singing,  — 
181 


Company  D's  Revenge 


"  Fifty  to  four,  fifty  to  four, 
Company  F  is  very  sore." 

This  was  Tommy  Eastern's  composition,  and 
he  proudly  led  the  chorus  of  voices. 

On  the  hill,  near-sighted  professors  smiled 
with  satisfaction,  and  with  their  heads  together 
nodded  grave  approval.  Never  before  had  a 
panic  and  retreat  been  so  well  acted  they  said. 
The  professor  of  military  science  should  cer 
tainly  be  congratulated.  Hearing  their  enthu 
siastic  descriptions  and  praise,  the  President  of 
the  University,  who  had  strolled  down  from  his 
house  just  after  the  flight  was  over,  walked  up 
to  the  professor  of  military  science  and  compli 
mented  him  in  a  pleasant  way  on  the  progress 
the  troops  seemed  to  have  made.  Lieutenant 
Wolsey  R.  Brainard,  U.  S.  A.,  Commandant  of 
the  Cornell  University  Cadet  Corps,  did  not 
reply,  but  showed  his  teeth.  Then  he  started 
angrily  across  the  field  to  D  Company ;  then 
he  turned  back  and  gnawed  his  moustache. 

It  is  said  that  there  is  now  no  man  more 
bound  by  college  traditions  and  precedents. 

182 


ONE   WPIO   DIDN'T 


183 


ONE  WHO   DIDN'T 

T  T  7ILBUR  lay  flat  on  his  back  on  the  win- 
*  *  (low-seat.  A  sophomore  was  pounding 
rag-time  from  the  tortured  piano  at  his  head. 
Fifty  feet  away  on  the  grass  outside  a  freshman 
and  a  sub  were  laughing  and  tossing  a  baseball 
carelessly.  Two  juniors  on  the  divan  were 
talking  earnestly  and  in  low  tones  about  the 
prospects  for  the  next  year.  In  the  middle 
of  the  floor,  Puggy  Workman  was  dancing  a 
right-footed  clog,  while  Torresdale  looked  on 
with  grave  amusement. 

From  the  piazza  of  a  nearby  fraternity  house 
came  the  sounds  of  girlish  voices,  mingling  with 
the  music  of  mandolins  and  guitars.  Strolling 
up  and  down  the  campus  sidewalk,  seniors  in 
gowned  solemnity  knocked  elbows  with  each 
other. 

186 


One  Wbo  Didn't 


Wilbur  lay  flat  on  his  back  on  the  window- 
seat.  He  did  not  hear  the  cries  of  the  fresh 
man;  he  did  not  even  notice  the  din  of  the 
piano. 

Ordinarily,  he  took  the  keenest  interest  in  the 
living  panorama  passing  up  and  down  the  hill  be 
fore  his  eyes.  To-day,  he  did  not  see  it ;  to-day, 
his  thoughts  were  all  he  had,  for  yesterday  his 
class  had  been  graduated  —  and  he  had  not  been 
with  them. 

The  trouble  had  been  that  during  his  college 
course  his  ambition  had  winged  too  high,  and 
the  duties  pertaining  to  the  leadership  of  the 
Glee  Club,  the  presidency  of  the  Masque,  and 
the  managership  of  the  baseball  team,  piling  one 
after  another  upon  him,  had  been  proved  to  be 
more  than  one  man  ought  to  carry.  To  be  sure, 
he  had  intended  to  give  the  Masque  entirely  up 
to  the  business  manager ;  but  somehow  or  other 
the  business  manager  had  not  been  as  enthusias 
tic  in  some  ways  as  he  should  have  been,  and  he 
had  been  afraid  that  something  would  go  wrong. 
It  had  not  been  absolutely  necessary  for  him  to 
186 


One  Who  Didn't 


go  on  that  last  trip  with  the  baseball  team,  and 
Fordyce  could  have  attended  to  everything  just 
as  well,  after  the  way  had  been  made  smooth  for 
him ;  but  in  some  way  he  felt  that  he  must  go, 
just  to  make  things  sure.  It  was  not  his  nature 
to  trust  things  to  his  assistants.  If  he  had 
charge  of  anything,  he  always  wanted  to  do 
the  work  himself;  and  so  he  had  cut  lecture 
after  lecture,  and  had  neglected  to  make  up 
a  term  of  junior  drawing,  all  of  which  had 
resulted  in  the  omission  of  his  name  from  the 
lists  of  graduating  students  posted  in  front 
of  the  registrar's  office.  It  was  of  no  use  to 
protest. 

His  bed  was  made.  Simply  because  he  had 
worked  for  the  good  of  the  university,  and 
worked  hard  that  his  Alma  Mater  should  be 
known,  as  well  by  her  success  in  athletics,  dram 
atics,  and  music,  as  by  the  standard  of  her  exam 
inations,  was  no  reason  why  the  university 
should  be  lenient  and  allow  him  his  sheepskin. 
If  such  a  thing  were  so,  there  would  be  great 
confusion.  This  was  what  A  Certain  Mighty 
187 


One  Who  Didn't 


Personage,  who  rubbed  his  chin  complacently, 
had  said  to  Johnson.     Therefore  it  must  be  so. 

So  Wilbur  lay  flat  on  his  back  on  the  window- 
seat,  and  in  the  midst  of  all  the  noise  and  action 
around  him,  he  was  as  much  alone  as  if  he  had 
been  at  the  bottom  of  Fall  Creek  Gorge. 
Marching  in  a  funereal  cavalcade,  his  memories 
passed  through  his  mind.  He  remembered 
vividly  the  day  he  saw  his  name  was  absent 
from  the  roll  of  his  class,  and  he  remembered 
how  he  had  thought  that  with  a  little  study 
and  one  or  two  petitions  he  should  still  get 
through  all  right.  He  had  not  thought  of  that 
miserable  junior  drawing  then,  and  he  had  still 
his  old  confidence  in  himself.  He  recalled  his 
father's  proud  but  anxious  shake  of  his  head 
when  he  had  told  him,  in  his  Christmas  vaca 
tion,  that  he  had  been  elected  president  of  The 
Masque.  His  father  had  been  afraid  that  too 
many  outside  honors  would  imperil  his  gradua 
tion  ;  but  he  had  laughed  his  fears  to  scorn  — 
then.  Now  it  was  his  father's  turn  to  laugh,  if 
he  had  wished,  but  he  did  not.  He  merely  wrote 
188 


One  Wloo  Didn't 


that  he  was  sorry,  and  that  he  and  the  rest  of 
the  family  were  very  much  disappointed.  That 
was  all;  but  Wilbur  knew  the  look  that  had 
come  into  his  father's  eyes,  as  well  as  if  he  had 
seen  it,  and  he  knew  too  that  although  nothing 
more  would  ever  be  said  on  the  subject,  his  fail 
ure  would  never  be  forgotten. 

This  was  bad  enough,  but  the  worst  of  it  all 
was,  that  it  was  not  as  if  he  had  the  excuse  of 
thoughtless  procrastination.  It  was  not  as  if  he 
had  only  been  foolish,  like  so  many  of  his  class 
mates.  He  had,  open-eyed  and  deliberately, 
chosen  his  path,  and  that  way  danger  lay.  He 
had  pounded  on  with  all  his  confidence  and 
assurance  unshaken,  sure  that  he  could  accom 
plish  what  he  had  undertaken,  and  now  that  he 
had  failed,  the  cup  was  doubly  bitter  because  of 
the  blow  to  his  pride. 

Like  many  men,  he  had  found  a  grim  pleasure 
in  self-chastisement.  He  had  donned  the  cap 
and  gown  with  the  rest,  even  after  he  knew  his 
fate.  The  swishing  skirt  reminded  him  con 
stantly  that  he  had  no  right  to  wear  it,  and 
189 


One  Who  Didn't 


with  every  step  seemed  to  be  saying,  Failure  ! 
Failure  !  Failure  !  in  remorseless  whispers.  He 
did  not  mind  this,  he  said  to  himself  bitterly. 
He  deserved  it,  and.  it  was  but  right  that  his 
punishment  should  be  severe.  Failure  was  the 
one  thing  that  was  hardest  of  all  for  him  to  for 
give  in  others,  and  now  that  his  time  had  come 
he  should  not  flinch. 

With  religious  flagellation  he  had  continually 
sought  those  associations  that  he  deemed  would 
be  most  painful.  He  had  tramped  up  the  hill  to 
vote  for  his  class  officers;  and  when  the  class 
wanted  to  run  him  for  orator,  he  explained  that 
he  was  sorry,  but  he  had  neglected  his  work,  and 
would  not  be  graduated  that  year.  This  had 
hurt  terribly;  but  it  was  some  satisfaction  to 
remember  that  the  class  had  elected  him  over 
such  a  disgrace,  and  for  a  while  the  blackness  of 
Ids  cloud  had  seemed  touched  with  silver. 

In  the  days  following  the  discovery  of   his 

failure,  he  had  suffered  and  become  hardened  to 

many  things.    After  a  few  weeks,  when  strolling 

down   the   hill,  with   an  arm  on  a  classmate's 

190 


One  Wbo  Didn't 


shoulder,  it  was  not  hard  to  say  casually,  "  Going 
to  get  through  all  right?"  and  to  reply  with 
well-assumed  unconcern  to  the  answer  and  ques 
tion  that  invariably  followed,  "  No,  I  am  afraid 
not.  Beastly  junior  drawing."  The  pipe  had 
often  been  a  great  help,  for  it  could  be  chewed 
and  wobbled  around  in  his  mouth  so  that  the 
strange  quality  in  his  voice  could  not  be  de 
tected.  Now  he  did  not  need  even  the  pipe. 
The  fellows  would  usually  say,  "By  Jove,  old 
man,  that 's  hard  luck.  I  'm  sorry,"  and  then 
would  mention  it  to  two  or  three  others,  and 
forget  about  it.  This  was  natural  enough,  and 
Wilbur  knew  it  and  understood.  Many  men 
would  have  argued  that  because  their  classmates 
had  so  easily  forgotten,  they  were  no  longer 
their  friends.  This  is  foolish  and  selfish,  and 
Wilbur  was  neither. 

But  all  this  was  over  now,  and  Wilbur  lay 
among  the  cushions  staring  drearily  into  the 
nothingness  of  the  future  and  the  happiness  of 
the  past.  They  seemed  to  dance  before  him 
hand  in  hand,  while  the  sophomore  beat  the 
191 


One  Who  Didn't 


piano  and  Puggy  danced  a  right-footed  clog. 
He  remembered  with  what  a  choking,  blinding 
sensation  he  had  stood  at  the  bay-window  and 
watched  the  fellows  marching  together  to  the 
armory  to  their  graduation.  He  remembered 
how,  as  the  dear  old  familiar  faces  passed,  his 
heartstrings  tugged  and  pulled  with  a  yearning 
he  had  never  known  before.  Then,  when  all 
had  passed  through  the  armory  door,  and  stood 
with  their  heads  bowed  in  the  solemn  reverence 
of  the  hour  and  the  prayer,  he  remembered  how 
he  had  fled  to  his  room  and,  his  spirit  broken  at 
last,  had  buried  his  face  in  the  pillows  and  cried 
like  a  child.  He  need  not  have  been  ashamed 
of  it,  but  his  face  flushed  even  now  at  the 
memory.  Then  he  remembered  how  he  had 
stolen,  while  the  President  was  speaking,  to  an 
old  bush  on  the  campus,  near  where  his  class 
would  march  and  smoke  their  pipe  and  sing 
their  songs  and  plant  their  ivy.  He  had  sat 
there  with  a  heart-sickness  that  made  him  far 
too  miserable  to  care  who  saw  or  knew  him. 
He  remembered  just  how  that  long  black- 
192 


One  Who  Didn't 


robed  line  of  figures  had  looked,  as  they  came 
marching  up  the  campus.  There  was  Johnson ; 
there  was  Torresdale.  There  were  Blake  and 
Cuthbert  and  Farnsworth  and  Thompson,  the 
captain  of  the  baseball  team,  with  whom  he  had 
slept  and  eaten  and  lived  and  breathed  so  long 
that  term.  There  was  Josh  Groswild  walking 
with  Lyndhurst;  there  was  the  Co-ed  Era 
editor;  there  was  Katzenkb'nig,  who  had  come 
from  Heidelberg,  —  he  had  counted  them  all 
mechanically. 

A  dozen  times  he  had  risen  to  go  away  some 
where,  and  lie  face  downwards  and  pull  up  great 
tufts  of  grass,  and  a  dozen  times  he  had  fallen 
back  again  by  the  bush.  He  could  not  go,  yet 
he  did  not  want  to  stay,  and  he  was  sure  his 
heart  was  breaking.  He  remembered  that  a 
long  time  ago,  when  his  brother  had  died,  he 
had  felt  something  the  same  way.  He  had  won 
dered  why  they  all  looked  so  grave,  and  there 
had  been  one  man  in  whose  eyes  he  had  actually 
seen  tears.  This  was  rather  foolish,  he  thought. 
What  had  he  to  mourn  over  ? 
13  193 


One  Who  Didn't 


They  were  all  there,  —  all  his  friends,  all  his 
four  years'  companions,  all  his  class :  his  class, 
with  whom  he  had  entered,  risen,  rushed,  quar 
relled,  loved,  and  hated,  all  together,  —  to 
gether,  since  the  days  when,  as  boyish  freshmen, 
each  man  had  played  at  mumblety-peg  with 
his  neighbor,  while  waiting  for  his  turn  to 
register;  together,  since  the  times  when,  as 
mighty  sophomores,  they  had  victoriously 
rushed  the  timid  freshmen  —  and  won  the  flag, 
down  by  Percy  Field ;  together,  through  the 
privileges  of  the  first  year  of  upper-classman- 
ship  ;  and  now  finally,  when  the  whirling,  rush 
ing,  remorseless  stream  of  time  had  borne  them 
all  too  quickly  through  the  years  of  college  life, 
they  were  again  together.  Hand  in  hand, 
shoulder  to  shoulder,  heart  to  heart,  they  were 
to  step  from  the  green  meadows  of  their  Alma 
Mater  over  the  stile,  and  into  the  rough,  uneven 
roads  of  life,  and  he  —  could  not  be  with  them. 

He  remembered  just  how  they  had  sat  in  the 
circle,  and  how  the  pipe  had  gone  around  and 
around,  and  how  one  co-ed  had  choked  and 
194 


One  Who  Didn't 


coughed  at  the  taste  of  smoke.  He  had  giggled 
hysterically,  he  remembered,  and  had  wondered 
for  a  flash  why  none  of  them  had  laughed. 
Then  he  had  become  savagely  indignant  at  the 
sisters  and  mothers  and  fathers  looking  on 
because  they  had  smiled. 

Then  how  well  he  remembered  Gordon's  face 
as  the  class  rose  in  a  body,  and  he  led  them  in 
Alma  Mater.  It  was  the  face  of  an  angel  glori 
fied.  How  the  old  tlirill  ran  through  him, 
again  and  again,  as  the  air  rose  and  fell  and  the 
line  marched  slowly  down  the  campus,  two 
abreast ;  and  how  his  whole  heart  and  soul  had 
cried  to  be  with  them.  The  agony  of  that 
minute  had  been  supreme,  and  with  that  wish 
there  came  again  the  rending  sorrow  of  know 
ing  he  had  no  right  in  their  ranks,  of  knowing 
that  his  class  had  gone  and  he  was  left. 

It  was  strange,  he  thought,  that  he  had  not 
known  until  now  how  much  he  cared  about  them 
all.  He  had  not  believed  that  it  would  be  so 
hard  to  have  them  go.  Maybe  in  a  few  months 
he  would  get  over  it.  But  still  —  he  had  failed 

195 


One  Who  Didn't 


—  he  was  disgraced,  he  thought,  and  that,  though 
time  could  make  it  but  a  memory,  could  never 
be  effaced.  Things  would  never  be  the  same. 
His  father  would  never  have  the  same  confidence 
in  him.  There  would  be  another  line  of  sorrow 
in  his  mother's  face.  People  at  home  would 
say  among  themselves,  "  I  hear  young  Wilbur 
did  n't  pass  up  there  at  Cornell,"  and  would 
nod  their  heads  gravely  and  raise  their  eye 
brows,  just  as  they  had  done  when  his  father's 
clerk  had  embezzled  some  of  his  money,  and 
the  newspapers  took  it  up.  He  could  see  their 
faces  now. 

The  sophomore,  who  really  played  well  when 
he  wished,  had  drifted  from  rag-time  to  Sousa, 
and  from  Sousa,  with  what  was  seemingly  a 
swift  boyish  change  of  mood,  to  Schumann's 
Nachtstiick,  The  rest  had  gone  to  dinner,  and 
had  yelled  to  Wilbur  to  come  on.  Wilbur  had 
replied,  in  his  natural  voice,  telling  them  to  go 
ahead,  and  he  would  be  down  directly.  They 
had  gone,  and  now  Wilbur  heard  the  rattling  of 
knives  and  forks,  and  the  clatter  of  many  voices 
196 


One  Who  Didn't 


in  the  dining-room  below.  They  did  not  under 
stand,  he  thought.  Why  should  they?  Men 
to-day  did  not  mingle  with  men  whose  heads 
were  bowed  and  whose  flapping  sackcloth 
tempted  every  wind.  One's  face  was  no  longer 
a  barometer  of  one's  feelings.  Besides  —  those 
others  had  not  failed.  They  had  never  even 
tasted  such  bitterness  as  had  fallen  to  him. 

When  one  feels  as  Wilbur  did,  one  is  likely  to 
overestimate  his  own  suffering  and  underesti 
mate  the  misfortunes  of  his  friends.  Disappoint 
ment,  with  all  its  retinue  of  grief  and  shame,  is 
usually  selfish  and  self-centred,  and  the  person 
across  whose  drawbridge  the  host  once  rides, 
often  unwittingly  drops  the  portcullis  behind 
them. 

This  is  bad,  and  the  sophomore  who  did  not 
understand,  knew  it.  He  had  been  "  busted  "  in 
his  freshman  year,  and  had  felt  the  same  way. 
So  he  played  Schumann's  Nachtstiick.  He  played 
it  very,  very  softly  at  first,  so  that  when  Wilbur 
closed  his  eyes,  the  music  seemed  to  be  made  by 
a  faint  breath  of  wind  far  off  among  the  stars. 
197 


One  Who  Didn't 


Somehow  the  running  fulness  of  the  chords 
was  filled  with  a  special  meaning  for  him  to-day. 
There  was  a  passionate  note  of  melancholy  ap 
peal  somewhere  there  that  accorded  well  with 
his  sorrow,  and  with  an  inexplicable  paradox 
there  stole  into  his  heart  a  deep,  full  sense  of 
comfort  that  drove  away  all  the  despair  and  sor 
row.  He  felt  like  stretching  his  arms  out  to 
something.  His  heart  felt  less  hopeless,  and  as 
there  came  a  change  in  the  music,  and  the  bass 
joined  with  the  treble  in  a  brief  song  of  triumph, 
he  forgot  entirely,  for  the  moment,  all  his  fail 
ure.  Then  as  the  last  few  solemn  notes .  fell 
slowly,  one  after  another,  with  a  kind  of  warning 
mournfulness,  he  remembered  once  more,  and 
the  wave  of  remorse  and  sorrow  swept  rushing 
back  again. 

Yet  there  was  a  difference, — a  very  subtle 
difference,  but  one  that  changed  things  wonder 
fully,  and  left  him  pondering.  All  the  sorrow 
and  all  the  yearning  for  his  class  still  held  his 
heart,  but  where  before  the  future  had  seemed 
blank,  and  where  the  past  had  seemed  foolish, 

198 


One  Who  Didn't 


there  was  now  hope  and  a  lesson.  He  wondered 
vaguely  why  this  was.  But  a  moment  before 
there  had  been  nothing  left  in  all  the  world  to 
live  for.  Now  there  seemed  to  be  a  great  deal 
in  life  still  left  to  him.  He  remembered  now 
that  only  yesterday  one  of  the  fellows  had  put 
his  arm  over  his  shoulder  and  said,  "  Billy,  old 
man,  it 's  mighty  hard  luck  for  you,  — your  not 
graduating ;  but  I  'm  awfully  glad  you  're  going 
to  be  back  next  year.  We  need  you."  It  made 
him  feel  rather  good  and  warm  inside  to  think 
about  it.  He  recalled  other  little  incidents 
which,  when  they  occurred  had  not  made  much 
impression  upon  him,  but  which  he  now  under 
stood.  For  instance,  when  Puggy  Workman 
had  come  to  him,  his  round,  good-natured  face 
all  wreathed  in  smiles,  and  said,  "  I  hear  you  're 
going  to  be  with  us  next  year.  Good  work."  It 
had  n't  seemed  at  all  good  work  then,  but  now  — 
well,  perhaps  it  was  not  so  bad.  Still,  you  know, 
it  was  his  class,  and  he  had  n't  —  and  it  was 
hard  not  to  be  able  to  march  and  sing  the  songs. 
The  other  class  was  all  right,  but  they  were  n't 
199 


One  Who  D'.dn't 


his  class.  There  were  n't  any  Johnsons  or  Ful- 
tons  or  Blakes  among  the  juniors.  If  he  had 
only  studied  harder,  he  might  have  —  what  was 
that  tune  the  sophomore  was  playing  ?  —  it  was 
certainly  very  beautiful  and  comforting.  It  was 
a  little  sleepy  too.  Perhaps  if  he  - —  should  see 
the  Dean  he  might  let  him  —  how  far  away  that 
music  seemed.  He  did  n't  know  the  sophomore 
could  play  so  well.  Still  the  Dean  had  told  him 
before  then  that  there  could  be  no  leniency. 
He  could  easily  —  what  was  that  tune  ?  He  had 
heard  it  somewhere  before.  Somewhere  —  a  good 
many  years  ago,  was  n't  it  ?  Or  was  it  —  maybe 
it  was  nearly  time  to  go  down  to  dinner  now. 
He  would  just  —  it  had  been  his  fault ;  all  his 
fault  —  still,  it  was  his  class  —  his  very  own  — 
and  they  couldn't  —  what  an  ugly  word  failure 
was.  Why  did  they  always  spell  it  in  such 
large  capitals?  He  had  never  noticed  it  up 
there  beside  the  chandelier  before.  It  was  cer 
tainly  queer.  How  very  sleepy  that  music 
was  .  .  .  if  he  —  it  was  his  class  —  and  he  had 
not  .  .  .  but  still  .  .  . 

200 


One  Wbo  Didn't 


The  sophomore  let  his  fingers  fall  with  a  sigh 
of  relief.  He  was  tired.  It  is  rather  tiring  for 
any  one  to  play  the  same  thing  over  and  over 
without  stopping  once,  and  it  is  especially  so 
when  one  is  watching  some  one  else  out  of  the 
corner  of  one's  eyes. 

Wilbur  lay  flat  on  his  back  on  the  window- 
seat,  and  the  sophomore  rose  with  an  uncon 
scious  sigh  and  smiled  inscrutably  as  he  looked 
down  on  his  quiet  slumbers. 

"  I  thought  it  would,"  he  said.  "  It  generally 
does."  And  then  he  bent  down  and  shook  him 
gently.  "  Hi,  there,  old  man,  dinner  ! "  he  said 
loudly. 

And  only  the  Nachtstiick  knew  exactly  what 
he  meant. 


201 


ONE  WHO   DID 


ONE  WHO  DID 

r  I  "'HE  three-car  train  backed,  puffing  and 
-*-  panting,  up  the  steep  grade  of  the  second 
switch.  Fordyce,  with  a  curious  straining  in 
his  throat,  and  a  misty  damp  feeling  in  his  eyes, 
stood  on  the  rear  platform  of  the  last  car  looking 
out  across  the  valley. 

High  on  the  hills  the  buildings  of  the  Uni 
versity  stood  clearly  outlined  against  the  sum 
mer  sky.  The  afternoon  sunlight  fell  across 
them  all,  —  Morrill,  White,  McGraw,  the  Physi 
cal  Lab.,  the  Chemical  Lab.,  and  all  the  rest,  — 
making  the  roofs  of  the  newer  buildings  glisten 
and  shine.  North  of  the  others,  the  dumpy  little 
observatory  stood  forlornly  alone,  its  one  small 
telescope  looking  out  of  its  curved  roof,  round- 
eyed  and  disconsolate.  Further  down  the  hill, 
the  top  of  the  flag  pole  in  front  of  the  gymna- 
205 


One  Who  Did 


slum  and  the  gables  of  two  fraternity  houses 
broke  the  line  of  tree-tops,  and  across  the  bridge 
the  gray,  windowed  walls  of  the  old  Cascadilla 
dormitory  marked  the  entrance  to  the  campus. 
The  leaves  in  the  trees  hung  quietly,  mourning 
the  death  of  the  afternoon  breeze,  and  from  the 
shops  to  the  bridge  there  was  hardly  a  sign 
of  life.  Even  the  old  town  of  Ithaca  itself, 
clinging  to  the  hillside,  and  stretching  over  the 
lowlands,  seemed  still  and  lifeless.  Beyond 
Renwick,  the  lake  lay  without  a  ripple,  in  its 
nest  of  forests,  reflecting  every  cloud  or  bird 
which  sailed  across  the  June  sky. 

Fordyce  was  going  home. 

The  spring  term  was  ended,  and  the  university 
had  stopped  to  breathe.  This  year  three  hun 
dred  and  four  men  had  been  graduated.  Men 
from  the  North,  the  South,  the  East,  the  West, 
men  from  England,  men  from  Scotland,  men 
from  Japan,  men  from  Spain,  men  from  the 
Hawaiian  Islands,  men  from  almost  everywhere, 
who  had  earnestly,  flippantly,  merrily,  stolidly, 
lived  and  studied  together  for  four  whole  years, 
206 


One  Who  Did 


were  now  scouring  the  country  in  search  of 
positions,  or  packing  their  flannels  and  outing 
clothes  for  one  last  long  vacation. 

Senior  week  had  been  gayer  than  usual. 
There  had  been  more  pretty  girls,  dances,  boat 
rides,  and  drives  than  ever  before,  and  the 
Senior  Ball  Committee  had  made  their  part  of 
the  week  so  far  outshine  the  Senior  Balls  of 
the  past  that  they  were  scarcely  remembered. 

Fordyce  looked  back  over  it,  and  told  himself 
that  he  had  enjoyed  it  all  most  gloriously.  Then 
he  looked  further  back.  It  was  this  that  caused 
that  mistiness  and  the  queer  feeling  in  his 
throat. 

It  is  hard  for  a  man  to  leave  his  college  and 
all  its  associations  forever.  The  thread  of  its 
life  is  very  slender,  and,  once  broken,  all  but  im 
possible  to  tie.  If  one  is  absent  but  a  year, 
he  finds  on  his  return  that  half  his  friends  are 
gone  and  their  places  filled  with  newer  men 
with  whom  he  has  nothing  in  common  and 
whom  he  does  not  even  know.  He  loses  track 
of  things,  and  when  his  remaining  friends  gather 
207 


One  Who  Did 


in  his  room,  use  his  tobacco,  tear  leaves  out  of 
his  books  for  spills,  and  talk  over  the  things 
that  have  happened,  he  is  hopelessly  at  sea,  and 
has  to  ask  who  Dick  is,  or  Tom  who?  or  in 
what  class  is  Harry  ?  It  takes  a  long  time  to 
get  back  the  old  feeling  of  oneness ;  and  even 
when  new  friends  are  made,  and  fresh  associa 
tions  formed  (which  if  one  had  not  had  the 
others  would  be  just  as  satisfying),  there  is 
always  the  feeling  that  those  who  are  new  never 
knew  those  whom  you  knew,  and  thus  one  note 
is  lost  from  the  fulness  of  the  chord. 

Fordyce  thought  of  all  this,  for  his  father  had 
offered  him  two  more  years  in  the  Law  School. 
He  knew  that  he  had  finished  the  pleasantest 
chapters  of  his  twenty-two  years.  He  knew 
that  his  work,  so  far  from  being  done,  was  but 
in  its  beginning,  and  he  appreciated  the  enor 
mous  possibilities  which  the  broader  field  brought 
to  him.  He  felt  guilty  as  he  looked  back  across 
those  hills,  and  the  old  love  welled  up  into  his 
heart,  for  he  was  not  at  all  sure  that  he  cared 
about  enormous  possibilities,  or  a  chance  to 
208 


One  Who  Did 


show  what  was  in  him.  And  there  was  the 
Law  School ! 

He  saw  its  stone  sides  as  the  train  puffed  on. 
He  had  no  intention  of  ever  practising  law,  but 
it  would  be  very  pleasant  to  spend  two  more 
years  there.  Then  too  a  legal  education  was 
never  wasted,  and,  maybe,  if  he  knew  a  little 
law,  business  would  open  up  better. 

He  stood  with  one  foot  on  the  railing,  and 
behind  him  his  hands  grasped  the  platform 
handles.  The  little  driblets  of  smoke  floated 
from  his  pipe  to  the  edge  of  the  rushing  wind 
at  the  car  side,  and  one  after  another  were 
caught  and  blown  to  pieces.  Inside,  the  car 
was  crowded  with  students  and  their  guests 
of  the  week  going  home.  They  were  all  sing 
ing,  and  one  fellow  was  sitting  on  the  back  of 
a  seat  playing  banjo  accompaniments.  Several 
chaperons  sat  in  one  corner.  They  smiled  in 
dulgently  at  his  boisterousness.  They  had  been 
smiling  indulgently  at  everything  for  so  long 
that  week  that  the  smile  had  almost  become  a 
habit,  and  would  fly  to  their  faces  mechanically, 
14  209 


One  Who  Did 


even  if  one  only  said,  "  Scat ! "  or  scratched  a 
match  somewhere  near  them. 

But  Fordyce  was  not  in  the  humor  for  this 
gayety,  —  at  least  not  now,  he  said  to  himself. 
He  wanted  to  stand  on  the  rear  platform  and 
think,  until  the  college  should  be  far  out  of 
sight.  Moreover,  he  did  not  exactly  see  how 
the  seniors  who  were  never  coming  back  could 
bear  to  laugh  and  sing  and  joke  in  such  a  heart 
less  way.  There  was  certainly  nothing  to  laugh 
at.  He  had  not  yet  learned  that  this  was  what 
many  people  do  when  they  do  not  wish  to  think 
about  things. 

How  much  had  happened  since  first,  as  a  lowly 
freshman,  he  had  trudged  up  and  down  that  hill 
to  recitations !  There  was  a  car  crawling  up 
State  Street  now  !  When  he  first  came  a  car  line 
was  not  even  thought  of,  and  the  crew  used  to  run 
up  and  down  the  steepest  parts  of  Buffalo  Street 
to  get  their  wind,  and  bring  the  calves  of  their 
legs  into  proper  shape.  There  had  been  a  little 
horse-car  running  from  the  hotel  to  the  station, 
but  that  was  all.  How  many,  many  times  he 

210 


One  Who  Did 


and  his  chum  Burleigh  had  tumbled  out  of  bed 
in  that  old  red  house  over  there  on  Stewart 
Avenue,  and  raced  all  the  way  up  the  hill  as 
fast  as  their  legs  could  carry  them,  to  make  an 
eight  o'clock  in  White  or  Morrill  Hall.  Bur 
leigh  was  a  good  fellow,  he  thought,  and  it 
was  a  pity  that  his  father  had  died  just  as  he 
was  commencing  his  second  year.  They  had 
been  pretty  much  together,  and  both  had  been 
pledged  to  the  same  fraternity  when  Burleigh 
left.  He  had  not  joined,  but  Fordyce  had,  and 
how  well  he  remembered  it  all !  How  embar 
rassed  he  had  felt  when  he  was  being  rushed, 
and  how  queer  it  had  been  to  see  an  upper-class 
man  offer  him  his  seat,  or  get  him  a  match  for 
his  pipe!  What  a  nice  crowd  of  fellows  they 
were,  and  how  he  had  trembled  and  felt  a  sort  of 
numbness  all  over  when  Colling  wood,  a  senior 
then,  and  an  object  of  terrible  awe,  had  put  his 
hand  on  his  shoulder,  and  said  solemnly,  "  Jack, 
I  should  like  to  speak  to  you  for  a  few  moments. 
Will  you  come  up  to  my  room  ?  "  He  laughed 
at  himself  when  it  was  over ;  but  he  had  always 

211 


One  Win  Did 


known  how  others  who  were  being  rushed  felt, 
and  he  had  consequently  treated  them  very 
kindly. 

Then  there  had  been  the  time  that  he  and 
Blake  had  been  so  nearly  expelled  for  climbing 
up  the  inside  of  the  Sibley  chimney,  while  the 
fires  were  burning,  and  fastening  a  tin  flag,  with 
their  class  numerals  painted  thereon,  to  the 
very  topmost  outside  brick.  If  there  had  not 
been  a  few  young  professors  on  the  faculty  who 
admired  the  daring  of  the  feat,  they  would  have 
received  much  more  than  the  solemn  reprimand 
and  warning  as  they  stood  tremblingly  before 
them.  That  had  been  the  beginning  of  the 
firm  friendship  between  Blake  and  himself. 

He  wondered  where  all  the  fellows  would  be 
a  year  from  now ;  scattered  to  the  four  corners 
of  the  earth,  he  supposed.  He  did  not  even 
know  where  he  should  be.  At  all  events,  it  was 
all  over  now.  There  would  be  no  more  sitting 
around  Zinckes  and  singing  the  old  songs  on 
winter  evenings.  There  would  be  no  more 
Savage  Club  gatherings  and  good  times  to- 

212 


One  Who  Did 


gether.  The  Sibley  Dinner  Pail  Brigade  was 
disorganized,  and  the  pails  were  lying  abandoned 
in  the  vacant  rooms.  In  the  fall,  freshmen 
would  come  and  take  the  rooms  and  pails.  He 
wondered  who  would  have  his.  He  had  never 
known  who  had  used  it  before  him ;  but  he  had 
become  quite  attached  to  it,  and  he  hoped  that 
it  would  not  fall  into  unappreciative  hands. 

But  it  was  not  any  one  thing  that  he  so  re 
gretted  leaving,  he  thought ;  it  was  not  the 
baseball,  the  football,  or  the  tennis,  even  if  he 
had  held  the  intercollegiate  championship  in  the 
latter;  nor  was  it  the  free  and  easy  life  one 
could  lead  with  a  lot  of  fellows;  it  was  not 
the  Masque,  or  the  Glee  Club,  or  the  Savage 
Club,  or  any  other  one  of  the  ways  in  which  he 
had  enjoyed  himself,  —  it  was  the  knowledge 
that  he  was  turning  his  back  on  all  these  things. 
In  themselves,  they  were  not  of  any  great  im 
portance,  but  the  secret  was  his  love  for  their 
associations.  For  instance,  there  was  that  long 
bench  in  White  10,  where  Professor  Black  held 
his  lectures  on  French  Literature.  There  was 
218 


One  Who  Did 


nothing  to  attract  one  to  it,  but  Fordyce  had 
sat  there  every  Monday,  Wednesday,  and  Fri 
day  at  nine  for  two  college  years,  and  he  knew 
every  pencil-mark  or  knife  scratch  around  the 
seat.  He  knew  every  crack  in  the  floor  and 
mark  on  the  walls  of  the  room.  He  knew  just 
when  he  would  be  called  upon,  and  he  knew  the 
exact  location  of  the  hairpin  which  was  always 
on  the  point  of  dropping  from  the  back  hair  of 
the  co-ed  on  the  front  seat.  Then,  too,  he  had 
sat  next  to  Griggs,  the  'varsity  stroke,  and  a 
very  nice  chap.  He  remembered  that  Griggs 
used  to  pinch  the  man  in  front  of  him,  and  then 
say,  "  Ouch !  Quit  that !  "  very  audibly ;  and 
when  Professor  Black  would  look  very  reprov 
ingly  at  the  man  in  front,  and  request  the  class 
to  keep  better  order,  Griggs  would  look  in  an 
injured  way  at  him,  and  nod  his  head  as  if  to 
say,  "  That 's  right !  Good !  A  man  really  can't 
attend  to  his  lesson  if  that  goes  on,  you  know," 
and  then  would  go  into  gales  of  laughter  as 
soon  as  the  professor  turned  away. 

Now  a  man  cannot  go  in  and  out  the  same 

214 


One  Who  Did 


buildings,  up  and  down  the  same  stairways,  and 
to  and  fro  on  the  same  road  for  four  years  with 
a  crowd  of  his  friends,  doing  as  they  do,  shar 
ing  their  lot,  and  sitting  by  their  sides,  without 
growing  to  love  the  buildings,  the  stairways, 
and  the  road.  He  may  not  know  he  loves  them 
iintil  after  he  leaves  them.  While  he  is  tramp 
ing  in  and  out,  and  up  and  down,  he  may  con 
sider  that  he  is  undergoing  a  terrible  grind,  and 
he  may  believe  he  hates  the  sight  of  the  steps 
and  the  recitation-rooms;  but  the  instant  he 
leaves  them  forever,  he  is  conscious  of  all  their 
latent  charms.  There  have  been  many  men 
who  in  the  midst  of  the  din  and  turmoil  of 
business-life  have  become  suddenly  conscious  of 
an  inexplicable  yearning  for  the  steps  of  old 
White  Hall ;  and  Fordyce,  pulling  at  his  empty 
pipe,  was  not  the  first  who  had  felt  that  species 
of  homesickness. 

It  certainly  seemed  longer  ago  than  yesterday 

that  he  and  Blake  had  strolled  over  the  campus, 

taking  their  last  farewell  of  all  their  old  haunts. 

It  must  have  been  longer  ago  than  that  when 

215 


One  Wlno  Did 


they  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  old  athletic  field, 
and  looked  around  in  silence  at  all  their  old 
stone  friends.  Then  they  had  walked  back  of 
the  Fiske-McGraw,  and,  lying  on  the  grass,  had 
watched  the  sun  slowly  sinking  beyond  the 
lake.  He  remembered  that  they  had  not  spoken 
for  a  long  time.  There  had  been  little  need 
of  speech,  for  both  were  watching  with  a  sad 
intensity  as  the  sun  crept  slowly  nearer  the 
crimson  horizon.  They  felt  as  though  dusk  had 
overtaken  them  at  the  foot  of  the  lane,  and  that 
to-morrow  the  sun  would  rise  upon  paths  of 
which  they  knew  nothing,  on  paths  which  led 
far  away  from  the  old  buildings  and  the  campus 
and  each  other,  and  sometimes  that  there  might 
be  paths  on  which  the  sun  did  not  shine.  And 
yet  it  was  not  the  future  itself,  but  the  past 
which  was  so  soon  to  be  that  caused  their 
silence.  It  was  the  knowledge  that  to-morrow 
the  new  life  began  and  the  old  life  ended  —  and 
the  old  life  was  inexpressibly  dear. 

Then  he  remembered  how  at  last  the  sun  had 
set,  and  Blake  had  suddenly  buried  his  face  in 
216 


One  Wbo  Did 


his  hands,  and  said,  in  an  odd  sort  of  voice, 
"  Jack,  it 's  all  over ! "  He  said  nothing  in 
reply,  but  slipped  an  arm  around  his  neck,  and 
they  had  sat  for  some  time  looking  out  across 
the  hills,  while  the  shadows  faded  from  the 
waters  of  the  lake,  and  the  skies  melted  slowly 
from  red  to  gold.  Finally,  he  rose  and  said, 
"  Come  on,  old  man,"  to  Blake,  and  Blake  had 
stumbled  to  his  feet,  pushed  back  his  hair,  and 
set  his  hat  firmly  on  his  head.  They  walked 
down  the  campus,  talking  of  other  things,  but, 
as  they  reached  Sage,  both  had  turned  and 
looked  back  for  a  moment. 

Now,  after  all  that,  here  Blake  was  laughing 
and  singing  with  the  girls  and  fellows  inside 
the  car,  as  if  he  had  forgotten  that  there  ever 
was  a  last  night.  How  people  could  laugh 
when  they  were  leaving  college  forever,  he  did 
not  understand! 

Then  he   thought  of  the  Law  School  once 

more.     Really,  he   thought,   a   legal  education 

was  just  the  thing  to  top  off  with.     After  that 

and  his  four  years'  course  in  M.  E.,  he  would  be 

217 


One  Who  Did 


ready  for  almost  anything;  he  would  have  a 
fully  rounded  education.  He  did  not  believe 
in  onesidedness,  and  he  thought  it  possible  that 
now,  with  only  one  degree,  he  —  and  he  had 
always  heard  that  law  was  extremely  pleasant 
work.  Moreover,  Wilbur  was  coming  back, 
and  he  and  Wilbur  could  room  together,  and  — 
and  he  would  not  have  to  leave  it  all  just  yet. 
That  was  the  main  argument,  he  thought :  he 
would  not  have  to  leave  it  all  just  yet.  There 
were  so  many  things  he  had  not  done  and 
would  now  like  to  do.  He  would  like  to  finish 
that  Masque  play.  He  would  like  to  run  for 
Commodore  of  the  crew,  and  go  to  Poughkeepsie 
when  they  rowed  Yale  the  next  year.  He 
would  like  to  have  a  try  at  the  baseball 
managership,  too,  and  he  would  like  to  be 
again  with  the  Glee  Club. 

Then  the  words  of  his  mother's  last  letter, 
written  just  after  he  had  passed  his  last  exam 
ination,  flashed  into  his  mind.  "  Chicago  is  so 
far  away,"  she  had  written,  "that  your  father 
and  I  do  not  feel  as  if  we  could  afford  to  come 
218 


Ofie  Who  Did 


on  to  your  graduation.  It  has  been  a  great  dis 
appointment  to  us  both ;  but  we  are  happy  in  the 
hope  of  soon  seeing  you  again,  and  having  you 
with  us  for  all  time.  Your  father  counts  greatly 
upon  your  help  in  his  business,  as,  ever  since 
the  store  burned,  he  has  not  been  as  well,  and 
I  know  that  he  looks  forward  to  your  coming." 

Fordyce  flushed  with  shame. 

Here  he  was  thinking  of  going  back  for 
two  more  years  !  It  was  not  right.  It  could 
not  be  right  that  he  should  be  enjoying  him 
self,  even  if  he  was  studying,  while  his  father 
needed  him.  In  most  instances  a  law  course 
might  be  a  very  good  thing;  but  —  moreover,  he 
would  be  spending  more  money,  and  though  no 
one  at  home  had  ever  said  anything  about  his 
expenses,  he  knew  how  hard  it  had  been  to  keep 
him  at  college. 

Fordyce  leaned  over  and  knocked  the  ashes 

out  of  his  pipe.     He  certainly  would  not  take 

those  extra  two  years.     He  had  been  a  fool,  he 

thought,  for  even   thinking   about  them.     He 

219 


One  Who  Did 


would  make  up  his  mind  now,  once  and  for  all, 
to  put  such  thoughts  away.  More  than  that, 
he  was  glad  —  he  was  very  glad  that  he  was 
not  going  back.  If  he  could  n't  go,  he  might 
just  as  well  make  up  his  mind  to  it,  he  thought, 
and  there  was  no  use  in  feeling  blue  about  it 
anyway.  So  he  was  glad,  he  was  sure  of  it. 
Still—  What  a  lucky  fellow  Wilbur  was! 
He  had  failed  to  be  sure,  but  he  did  n't  seem 
to  mind  it  a  bit,  and  laughed  and  joked  about 
his  being  there  next  year  quite  as  if  it  were  the 
thing  to  be  "  busted."  He  was  fortunate  not 
to  have  very  deep  feelings,  he  thought.  Yes, 
he  should  certainly  like  to  go  back  with 
Wilbur;  but  it  was  not  best.  Anyway,  after 
one  has  had  four  years  of  college,  it  is  time  for 
him  to  do  something.  At  the  same  time  — 
But,  pshaw !  He  had  decided  that  he  was  glad. 
How  extremely  annoying  it  was  to  forget  such 
a  thing !  There  was  no  real  need  of  his  remind 
ing  himself  of  it, — at  least  there  should  not 
be.  It  was  very  simple.  He  was  glad.  What 
more  ?  He  would  go  into  the  car  and  sing  and 

220 


One  Who  Did 


laugh  with  Blake,  and  get  Torresdale  angry  by 
talking  nonsense  with  that  little  Miss  What's- 
her-name  from  Buffalo.  It  was  fun  to  get 
Torresdale  angry.  He  would  do  that. 

Fordyce  looked  up.  He  saw  that  the  train 
had  passed  Caroline  five  minutes  before,  and 
that  he  had  not  noticed.  The  University  was 
far  behind,  out  of  sight  beyond  the  hills. 

The  mistiness  in  his  eyes,  and  the  curious 
straining  in  his  throat,  came  back  again  with 
a  sudden  rush.  He  felt  like  screaming,  "I 
can't  go !  I  can't !  I  CAN'T  ! "  but  he  waited 
quietly  until  the  mistiness  had  gone  away  and 
his  throat  felt  natural  again.  Then  he  walked 
into  the  car  and  stopped  at  the  water-cooler. 
He  looked  around  him.  The  fellow  was  still 
playing  the  banjo,  and  Fordyce,  tiptoeing  softly 
behind  him,  gave  a  slight  sudden  jerk,  and  he 
fell,  —  a  mass  of  tangled  legs  and  arms  and 
banjo,  while  the  crowd  shrieked  wildly  with 
joy,  and  the  chaperons  smiled  indulgently.  In 
a  moment  he  emerged  between  two  seats,  his 
face  one  huge  grin. 

221 


One  Who  Did 


Fordyce  sat  down  by  the  girl  from  Buffalo. 

"  I  am  very  glad,"  he  said. 

The  girl  turned  wonderingly. 

"  Why  —  why  —  thank  you,"  she  answered. 

But  Fordyce  only  smiled. 


THE  ELDER  MISS  ARCHLEN 


THE  ELDER  MISS   ARCHLEN 

T  T  E  was  a  good  freshman.  One  of  the  kind 
•*-  *  that  buy  the  upper-classmen  cigarettes, 
and  go  to  the  door  when  the  bell  first  rings, 
instead  of  waiting  an  hour  or  so  to  see  if  any 
one  else  is  going.  He  was  all  around  the  best 
freshman  we  had  that  year.  The  others  — well, 
you  know  —  did  n't  believe  in  upper-class  disci 
pline  and  made  sarcastic  remarks  when  seniors 
made  mistakes.  The  rest  were  of  that  class. 

The  good  Freshman  made  one  mistake, 
though.  It  was  in  this  way. 

One  evening,  rather  early,  several  of  us  were 
sitting  around  the  upper-classmen's  table  at 
Pat's.  We  had  sung  ourselves  out  and  Blake 
was  not  there  to  tell  us  any  new  stories,  so  we 
fell  to  smoking  silently.  Once  or  twice  Rogers 
hit  the  bottom  of  his  beer-glass  on  the  table, 

15  225 


The  Elder  Miss  ArcUen 


and  a  little  while  afterward  we  all  turned  them 
upside  down  and  hit  the  tops.  Morley  gloomily 
studied  the  different  names  cut  in  the  soft  pine 
table.  Cuthbert,  sprawling  with  his  coat  wide 
open,  was  idly  shying  crackers  at  "  Fuggy " 
Workman's  mouth.  Fordyce  was  scratching 
all  the  matches  to  obtain  charcoal  wherewith 
to  ink  in  his  newly-cut  name ;  and  the  rest  of 
us,  except  the  Freshman,  to  whom  we  had 
accorded  our  gracious  permission  to  sit  with 
us  that  evening,  were  staring  wearily  at  the 
revolving  fans  above  us,  and  wondering  how 
they  could  bear  to  move  so  fast  on  such  a 
scorching  day.  Over  in  the  corner,  Marnit  sat, 
white-aproned  and  perspiring,  only  rising  now 
and  then  when  one  of  us  hit  the  table. 

Suddenly  the  Freshman  broke  the  silence 
with,  "Say,  fellows,  can  I  have  a  girl  on  for 
Senior  Week  ?  " 

We  all  withdrew  our  gaze  from  the  ceiling, 
and  Morley  paused  with  his  knife  poised,  just 
as  he  was  about  to  cut  a  period  after  a  P.  G.'s 
neglected  name. 


The  Elder  Miss  ArMen 


"  Certainly,  why  not  ?  "  said  he. 

The  Freshman  reddened.  He  was  not  used 
to  so  much  attention,  and  murmured  something 
unintelligible  about,  "  Did  n't  know  —  fresh 
man  —  girls  — "  and  timidly  took  a  sip  of 
beer. 

Morley  looked  at  him  wisely.  "  Is  she  a 
peach?"  he  said.  I  saw  the  Freshman's  hand 
make  just  the  slightest  motion  in  the  world 
toward  his  upper  left-hand  vest-pocket  as  he 
replied,  "  I  '11  show  you  her  picture  —  up  at 
the  house  sometime.  Yes,  I  think  she  is 
pretty." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Cuthbert,  under  his  breath. 

The  Freshman  caught  the  mumbled  words 
and  assumed  a  half-defiant  air. 

"  When  is  she  coming  ?  "  asked  Puggy,  in  a 
crackery  voice. 

"  I  'm  going  to  ask  her  for  the  week  —  if 
that's  all  right." 

"Sure,"  said  I. 

"  And,"  asked  Johnson,  from  a  smoke  cloud, 
44  what "  —  puff  —  "  is  her  "  —  puff  —  «  name  ?  " 
227 


The  Elder  Miss  Arcblen 


"Archlen,  a  Miss  Edith  Archlen,"  replied  the 
Kid. 

Morley  woke  suddenly,  "  Edith  Archlen  ?  Of 
Buffalo?" 

"  Yes,"  apprehensively. 

"Well,  I'll  be  — Edith  Archlen!  I  knew 
her  two  years  ago,  —  knew  her  well  all  one  sum 
mer  at  Block  Island.  The  Kid  has  sense,  fellows. 
She 's  all  right  and  can  dance,  too.  There  were 
mighty  few  college  men  down  there  that  sum 
mer,  and  we  —  Oh,  well !  "  Morley  winked 
solemnly  at  the  man  on  his  right,  and  stared 
whimsically  into  his  glass. 

The  Freshman  caught  the  wink  and  reflected. 
Then  the  corners  of  his  mouth  tightened  a  little, 
and  he  looked  earnestly  at  Morley. 

"Well?"  said  the  latter. 
.    "Nothing." 

Morley  looked  at  him  curiously  and  rose. 
"Let's  go  to  Renwick,  fellows,"  he  yawned. 
"  It 's  cooler  there,  and  there  is  a  rather  clever 
vaudeville  in  the  pavilion.  Come  on." 

We  all  considered  the  proposition  favorably, 
228 


The  Elder  Miss  ArcMen 


except  the  Freshman.  He  begged  off  on  the 
plea  of  work,  and  we  saw  him  disappear  up  the 
hill  as  we  were  waiting  for  our  car. 

When  I  came  in  that  night  I  found  him  wait 
ing  for  me.  I  roomed  with  him  then.  He 
wheeled  in  his  chair  to  face  me,  and  looked  on 
in  silence  while  I  cast  off  enough  of  my  gar 
ments  to  keep  cool.  Then  when  I  had  cocked 
my  feet  on  the  desk,  and  tucked  a  couple  of 
cushions  in  my  chair,  he  said  solemnly,  "  Billy, 
it 's  Morley." 

I  looked  around  the  room,  and  not  knowing  in 
the  least  what  he  was  talking  about,  said,  "  No  ! " 
incredulously. 

"  Don't,  Billy.  I  'm  in  earnest.  I  —  you  know 
-about  Edith." 

"  Oh ! "  said  I,  understandingly,  for  he  had  re 
lieved  himself  by  long  talks  with  me  when  the 
pressure  had  grown  too  great,  and  I  knew  what 
he  thought  of  Miss  Archlen. 

"  You  mean  Morley  is  the  fellow  who  used  to 
know  her  so  well  and  whom  she  liked  so  much  ?  " 

"Yes,  and  I  —  " 

229 


The  Elder  Miss  ArcUen 


"Don't  know  whether  to  ask  her  here  or 
not?" 

"Well,  you  see  she  will  stay  here  with  her 
mother,  and  Morley  will  be  in  the  same  house, 
and  it  would  be  rather  —  rather  —  would  n't 
it?" 

"  She  likes  you,  does  n't  she  ?  "  I  asked. 

The  Freshman  pretended  a  yawn  of  uncon 
cern,  and  said,  "  I  think  so." 

I  was  inexorable.     "  Don't  you  know  so  ?  " 

"I  — I  think  I  do." 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  don't  be  a  fool." 

"  I  know,  "  he  said ;  "  but  Morley  is  so  infer 
nally  good-looking  and  clever.  If  she  liked  him 
so  much  when  he  was  younger  and  not  so  —  so  — 
you  know,  why  won't  she  like  him  all  the  more 
now?" 

"  Girls'  tastes  change  as  they  grow  older," 
said  I,  with  senioric  wisdom. 

"But  they  always  like  pretty  things  and 
candy,  don't  they?" 

"  Possibly,"  I  admitted ;  "  but  does  not  your 

mirror  show  —  " 

230 


The  Elder  Miss  ArcUen 


"  Oh,  shut  up,  Billy  I"  said  he,  elegantly. 
"I'm  in  earnest,  —  terribly  in  earnest,  if  lam 
a  freshman." 

My  pipe  was  bubbling  as  I  thought  hard  for 
a  few  minutes.  Rising,  I  knocked  out  the 
ashes.  "  Old  man,"  I  said,  "  are  you  really  and 
truly  in  love  with  Miss  Archlen  ?  " 

He  made  a  brave  attempt  at  a  smile  as  he 
said,  "  If  I  am  not,  it 's  the  most  realistic  fake  I 
ever  ran  up  against." 

"  And  things  look  dismal  ?  "  I  continued. 

"  Very ! "  he  replied. 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  you  go  in  and  win.  I  '11 
help  you  all  I  know  how,  and  between  us  I  guess 
Morley  won't  cut  much  ice." 

He  grabbed  my  hand  gratefully.  "  Will 
you  ? "  he  said.  "  I  know  you  can  help  lots. 
You're  so  much  brighter  than  the  rest,  and 
know  exactly  what  to  do  in  a  case  of  push." 

"  Come  to  bed,"  said  I,  with  affected  sleepi 
ness,  "  for  I  hate  scenes.  You  do  your  best,  and 
I  '11  see  what  I  can  do  about  Morley." 

Just  before  he  turned  out  the  light  he  brought 

231 


71}e  Elder  Miss  ArcUen 


out  a  square  object  from  the  breast-pocket  of 
his  pajamas,  and  held  it  up  before  me  in  silence. 

"  She  's  all  right,"  said  I. 

"Good-night,"  he  answered,  stroking  the 
brass  knob  on  my  bed  tenderly.  He  knew  that 
I  understood. 

I  walked  up  the  campus  the  next  morning 
with  Morley,  and  asked  him  if  he  was  going  to 
have  any  one  up  for  the  Senior. 

"Not  if  the  Kid  has  Miss  Archlen,"  he  replied. 
"  I  can  entertain  her,  you  know,  while  he  is 
fixing  up  the  box  and  all  that.  I  think  I  can 
find  enough  for  him  to  do,  too.  Queer,  wasn't 
it,  the  way  he  acted  last  night  about  it  ?  Oh, 
well  —  others  have  been  just  as  far  gone  as  he, 
and  it  won't  hurt  him  to  have  a  fall  taken  out 
of  him." 

"  Oh,  let  him  alone,"  said  I,  "  you  don't  want 
her  and  he  does." 

"  He  thinks  he  does,"  said  Morley,  "  that 's 
all.  So  long,"  and  he  dropped  off  at  Morrill. 

My  mind  was  made  up.  I  should  show  my 
classmate  no  mercy.  Morley  was  a  mighty  nice 
232 


The  Elder  Miss  Archlen 


chap,  but  possessed  of  a  surpassing  knowledge 
of  his  own  powers  in  every  line.  There  was  no 
doubt  that  he  was  clever  and  good-looking,  but 
he  occasionally  let  his  desire  to  show  his  powers 
run  away  with  his  judgment. 

That  evening  at  dinner  an  idea  flashed  into 
my  mind.  After  dinner  I  whistled  to  the  Fresh 
man.  He  came,  looking  pale  and  worried,  to 
where  I  sat  in  comfort  watching  the  redness 
of  the  sunset.  "  What  do  you  want,  Billy  ?  " 
said  he. 

"  First,  a  cigarette,"  said  I. 

He  handed  it  to  me  in  silence. 

"  Well,"  I  observed. 

"  Well,"  he  repeated. 

"  Are  n't  you  forgetting  yourself  ?  "  said  I. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Billy,"  said  he,  and 
handed  me  the  wherewithal. 

I  lit  up,  puffed  contentedly  for  a  moment,  and 
told  the  Freshman  to  sit  down.  He  sat. 

"  Kid,"  said  I,  "  is  Miss  Archlen  Miss  Arch 
len  or  Miss  Edith  Archlen?" 

"  What  the  —  "  he  began. 
233 


The  Elder  Miss  Arcblen 


"  Wait,"  I  interrupted  commandingly ;  "  what 
I  mean  is,  has  she  an  older  sister  ?  " 

"Yes,  why?" 

"  How  much  older  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Two  years,  but  —  " 

«  How  old  is  Ed  —  Miss  Edith?" 

"Twenty,"  he  answered,  with  smouldering 
fire  in  his  eye. 

"  Is  her  older  sister  any  good  ?  " 

"  She 's  very  bright  and  pretty,  dances  like 
Crawford's  sister,  and  is  mighty  good  fun.  She 
is  not  as  pretty  as  Edith,  though.  You  know 
Edith  has  that  funny  wavy  brown  hair  like  — 
like  —  " 

"  Prexy's  horse  -blanket,"  I  suggested. 

The  Freshman  subsided. 

"Now,  see  here,"  I  went  on,  "does  Morley 
know  her?" 

"  No." 

"  Do  you  know  her  —  well,  I  mean  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Do  you  think  she  would  come  down  for  the 
week  with  her  sister  if  you  asked  her  ?  " 
234 


The  Elder  Miss  ArcUen 


"  In  a  minute,"  he  said ;  "  but  —  " 

"  One  moment,"  I  had  to  remind  him.  "Now 
listen.  That  is  my  last  Senior  week,  and  I  'm 
girlless.  I  was  going  to  trot  my  younger  sister 
around,  but  she  's  sailed  for  Europe,  and  that 
lets  me  out.  From  what  you  say,  I  imagine 
Miss  Archlen  is  pretty  smooth,  and,  anyway,  if 
she  dances  like  Polly  Crawford,  she  can  have 
me  —  for  the  week.  I  want  you  to  write  up 
there  telling  her  all  about  me,  enclosing  my 
card,  and  asking  her  to  come  here  for  the 
house  party  as  a  guest  of  the  society,  on  your 
invitation." 

"  But  I  'm  going  to  take  —  "  began  the  Fresh 
man. 

"  I  know  you  are,"  said  I.  "  You  are  going 
to  ask  both  and  take  one,  —  either  one  you 
want,  —  I  '11  take  the  other.  Write  up  and  tell 
her  so.  Write  to-night.  She  will  come  if  you 
explain  things,  won't  she  ?  " 

"  Oh,  she  '11  come  all  right,  all  right,"  said  he ; 
"  only  what  in  the  devil,  Billy,  has  all  this  rot 
to  do  with  Morley  ?  " 

235 


The  Elder  Miss  Archlen 


I  nearly  fell  off  my  chair  with  laughter. 
"  Why,  you  idiot !  "  slid  I,  when  I  could  catch 
my  breath,  "  everything.  You  do  as  I  tell 
you.  Write  to  Buffalo  to-night.  Put  it  strong. 
Both  the  girls  must  come  or  you  are  lost ;  they 
are  your  only  salvation.  Both,  mind  you  — 
and  Kid,"  I  continued,  in  a  ruminative  way,  "  1 
shall  have  to  ask  you  to  make  out  both  the 
cards.  I  am  getting  rather  old  to  hustle  around 
after  dances,  you  know.  I  suppose  Morley  will 
want  several  with  Miss  Edith  Archlen.  He  '11 
come  to  you  for  them.  Don't  worry  about 
looking  him  up.  When  he  does  come,  he  will 
ask  to  see  Miss  Archlen's  card.  Give  it  to 
him !  Give  him  all  he  wants  ;  but  —  but  —  Oh, 
you  fool ! "  I  roared,  for  the  expression  of  im 
becile  happiness  that  was  dawning  on  his  face 
was  more  than  mortal  man  could  bear. 

The  idea  of  Morley,  the  elegant,  all  sufficient, 
omnipotent,  overpowering  Morley,  being  sold 
was  too  much.  We  pictured  his  serene  self- 
satisfaction  as  he  wrote  his  name  in  a  dozen 
places  over  Miss  Edith  Archlen's  elder  sister's 
236 


The  Elder  Miss  Archlen 


card.  We  saw  vividly  just  how  he  felt  when 
he  found  it  out.  We  tasted  the  foaming  tank 
ards  that  he  would  buy  when  it  was  all  over, 
and  then  we  laughed  again.  Finally,  when  we 
had  squeezed  the  subject  mirthless  for  the  pres 
ent,  we  put  our  heads  together. 

"  Billy,"  said  the  Freshman,  "  Morley  must  n't 
know  you  are  going  to  take  Miss  Archlen." 

"  He  won't,"  said  I. 

u  And  the  thing  must  n't  seem  too  easy,"  he 
continued. 

"  Your  lookout,"  said  I ;  "give  me  a  match." 

"  Suppose  he  wants  to  take  her  to  the  Masque 
or  Concert,  or  any  of  the  other  dances,  or  to  the 
boat  ride  ?  " 

"  Same  scheme,"  I  replied.  "  His  money  is 
as  good  as  mine  any  day." 

"  Billy,  I  don't  know  how  to  —  I  —  you  're  a 
—  dog  gone  it  all,  Billy,  have  another  cigarette  ?  " 

"  Kid,"  said  J,  taking  it,  "  if  you  don't  get 
to  work,  that  prelim,  in  Analytics  is  going  to 
hit  you  right  where   a   man   finds  it  hard   to 
shave,"  and  I  walked  over  to  talk  with  Blake. 
237 


The  Elder  Miss  ArcUen 


Things  went  right  our  way  from  the  start. 
I  put  the  fellows  up  to  waking  Morley's  desire 
to  monopolize  the  younger  Miss  Archleri  by  a 
judicious  course  of  guying,  until  finally  he 
went  around  with  his  handsome  head  in  the  air 
and  a  light  of  determination  in  his  eyes.  As 
soon  as  the  Freshman  started  making  out  the 
dance  cards,  Morley  swooped  down  upon  him, 
and,  by  some  very  skilful  manoeuvring,  managed 
to  get  twelve  dances  with  the  elder  sister,  and 
went  away  chuckling.  A  day  later  I  arranged 
to  have  several  of  the  fellows  appear  at  once, 
and  plead  for  the  honor  of  Miss  Archlen's  com 
pany  at  the  Concert,  including  the  buying  of 
tickets,  roses,  and  carriage  hire.  Morley  was 
there.  After  much  competition  and  persua 
sion,  the  Freshman  gave  in  to  him.  He  was 
delighted,  and  insisted  on  paying  me  the  sum 
of  a  dollar  and  a  half,  which  he  had  owed  me 
ever  since  he  went  broke  at  the  last  football 
game. 

The  Freshman  was  jubilant,  and  talked  in  his 
sleep.  Toward  the  end  of  the  week,  Morley 
238 


The  Elder  Miss  Archlen 


stopped  me  in  front  of  the  Armory.  "Billy," 
said  he,  "  I  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  you." 

«  Go  ahead,"  said  I. 

"  It 's  this  way,"  said  he.  "  I  want  to  take 
Miss  Archlen  to  the  boat  ride." 

"  Of  course,"  said  I. 

"Eh?"  said  he. 

"  You  can,"  said  I. 

"Wha-at?"  said  he. 

"  You  were  saying  —  "  I  observed. 

Morley  stared. 

"  I  want  to  take  Miss  Archlen  to  the  boat 
ride,"  he  said.  "  If  you  have  gone  crazy  or  — 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Morley,"  said  I.  "  I  was 
not  thinking  of  Senior  week  just  then." 

"I  want  to  take  Miss  Archlen  to  the  boat 
ride,"  he  repeated. 

"  Well,  why  don't  you  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  You  see,  that 's  just  it,"  he  answered.  "  I 
have  bullied  the  Kid  out  of  twelve  dances  for 
the  Senior,  and  wheedled  him  into  letting  me 
take  her  to  the  Concert,  and  I  don't  think 
he  '11  stand  for  another  strike.  I  thought  you 
239 


The  Elder  Miss  Archlen 


and  your  influence  could  help  me  —  if  you 
would." 

"  Does  n't  it  seem  to  you  as  if  you  were  acting 
rather  hoggishly  ?  "  I  answered  gravely.  "  Why 
can't  you  let  the  Kid  have  her  ?  She  '11  be  his 
guest,  and  you  know  how  much  he  likes  her  ?  " 

"  That 's  not  the  point.  The  Kid  has  been 
fresh  to  me,  and  I  propose  to  teach  him  a  lesson. 
Won't  hurt  him  a  bit !  Why,  he  had  the  nerve 
the  other  day  to  say  that  he  did  not  believe  I 
was  one,  two,  three  with  Miss  Archlen.  Said 
he  knew  her  very  well,  and  never  even  heard 
her  speak  of  me.  Said  it  in  his  mean  little 
way  too,  and  walked  off  laughing  and  holding 
his  young  head  in  the  air  as  if  he  were  the 
whole  thing.  Hoggish  ?  Not !  It 's  time  he 
knew  something.  If  you  won't  join  in  the 
good  work,  all  right  —  I  '11  do  it  myself."  And 
he  tossed  back  his  wavy  hair  with  a  look  of 
supreme  self-confidence. 

I  had  become  black  in  the  face  from  this 
harangue.  Verily,  the  Freshman  was  learning 
human  nature,  and  was  already  feeling  the  prox- 
240 


The  Elder  Miss  Arcblen 


imity  of  sophomore  year.  When  I  could  trust 
myself  to  speak,  I  said,  "  Maybe  you  are  right, 
Morley.  1 11  see  what  I  can  do  for  you,"  and 
Morley  thanked  me  and  strolled  away. 

I  fixed  it  with  the  Freshman,  and  Morley 
chuckled  gleefully.  After  that,  he  made  several 
other  minor  engagements.  When  the  Freshman 
was  fixing  the  box  for  the  ball,  Morley  was  to 
take  Miss  Archlen  walking.  When  the  Kid 
and  his  classmates  were  fixing  our  house  for  our 
own  dance,  Morley  was  to  read  to  Miss  Archlen 
up  in  the  shady  nooks  of  the  second  gorge. 
Meanwhile,  in  an  owlish  conference  held  by  the 
Kid  and  me,  it  was  decided  that  at  those  times 
I  should  take  care  of  Miss  Edith  Archlen.  In 
every  detail  our  plan  was  complete.  The 
enemy's  discomfiture  and  defeat  were  certain, 
and  we  breathed  easily  while  awaiting  develop 
ments. 

At  last  the  first  of  the  war  clouds  crept  down 
from  the  north.  On  the  morning  of  the  day  our 
guests  were  all  expected  to  arrive,  the  Freshman 
handed  me  Miss  Archlen's  card.  At  the  break- 

16  241 


The  Elder  Miss  Arcblen 


fast-table  I  casually  mentioned  to  Morley  that  I 
was  going  to  have  Miss  Archlen's  elder  sister  as 
my  guest.  All  Morley  said,  was,  "  Did  n't  know 
she  had  a  sister ;  pass  me  the  bread,  please  ?  " 

Danger  number  one  was  over,  and  I  knew  the 
fuse  would  be  longer  burning  than  I  had  dared 
to  hope. 

There  was  the  usual  flurry  and  bustle  as  the 
noon  train  rolled  in  with  its  cargo  of  peaches 
and  cream  and  dried  apples.  The  girls  were 
hailed  with  the  usual  shouts  of  joy,  and  the 
chaperons  with  the  usual  exaggerated  polite 
nesses.  In  the  rush,  Morley  failed  to  meet  the 
elder  Miss  Archlen,  and  it  was  not  until  luncheon 
that  he  had  that  pleasure.  Even  then  all  he 
said  to  me  in  an  aside  was,  "  Jove,  but  she  's 
pretty." 

She  was.  I  am  not  going  to  describe  her,  but 
she  was  undeniably  a  beautiful  girl  with  a  great 
deal  of  wit  and,  best  of  all,  a  keen  sense  of 
humor.  If  I  had  n't  known  some  one  else  who 
had  sailed  for  Europe  with  my  sister,  this  story 
might  have  been  different.  To  my  mind,  she 


The  Elder  Miss  ArcUen 


was  infinitely  superior  to  her  sister  in  looks,  and 
in  most  other  ways,  and  I  think  Morley  thought 
so  too,  but  his  blood  was  up,  and  all  his  batteries 
of  fascination  were  brought  to  bear  upon  her 
younger  sister. 

By  dinner-time  his  face  wore  a  look  of 
doubt.  All  the  afternoon  he  had  been  hearing 
the  two  girls  called  Miss  Archlen  and  Miss 
Edith  Archlen,  and  I  think  he  smelled  a  rat. 
That  evening  he  had  to  go  to  a  Phi  Beta  Kappa 
initiation,  and  when  he  returned  every  one  was 
asleep,  so  that  the  day  was  passed  in  quiet. 
That  the  bombardment  and  mine  explosion 
would  occur  the  next  morning,  I  did  not  doubt. 
That  the  enemy  would  be  overthrown,  I  was 
sure.  That  he  would  accept  defeat  gracefully, 
and  in  the  spirit  in  which  it  was  given,  I  was 
not. 

And  I  was  right. 

The   morning   of   Tuesday,    June   17,    1890, 

dawned  bright  and  clear.     For  modern  warfare 

the  day  was  perfect.     A  cloudless  sky  and  a 

gentle  wind  heartened  both  forces.     The  Buffalo 

243 


The  Elder  Miss  ArcUen 


Royal  Volunteers  occupied  the  most  advanta 
geous  position,  being  ensconced  in  a  large  leather 
chair  fortified  by  pillows.  She  was  well  rein 
forced  by  a  brigade  of  the  Buffalo  Light  Blue 
Infantry,  and  two  companies  of  the  94th  and 
90th  N.  G.  I.  Reserves,  who  had  taken  up  posi 
tions  in  a  clump  of  chairs  slightly  in  the  rear 
and  on  the  left  flank.  The  opposing  forces,  con 
sisting  of  a  brigade  of  Morley's  Own,  occu 
pied  higher  ground  about  three  feet  south.  He 
was  on  a  window-seat. 

The  first  gun  was  fired  at  exactly  9.43  A.  M. 
Morley  asked  Miss  Edith  Archlen  if  she  remem 
bered  two  years  ago  this  summer.  Miss  Edith 
Archlen  looked  over  her  pillows  and  sighed,  and 
said  yes.  Morley's  Own  slid  a  foot  and  a  half 
nearer,  and  they  began  to  reminisce. 

Morley  said,  "  Do  you  remember  the  old  south 
pier,  and  how  we  used  to  walk  over  there  at  sun 
set  and  watch  the  waves  come  booming  in  ?  " 

"  As  if  it  were  yesterday,"  sighed  Miss  Edith, 
looking  out  the  corner  of  her  eye  to  see  what 
the  Freshman  was  doing. 
244 


The  Elder  Miss  ArcUen 


"  I  wonder  if  the  ivy  we  planted  still  grows?  " 
meditated  the  enemy. 

"  We  planted  it  together,"  said  Miss  Edith ; 
"  it  ought  to." 

"  They  were  happy  times,"  said  Morley,  and 
looked  as  if  he  were  thinking  about  them. 

"  They  were  for  me,"  said  Miss  Edith,  frankly  ; 
"  and  I  never  tasted  such  goods  things  to  eat  in 
all  my  life." 

Morley  looked  a  little  hurt,  and  the  Reserves 
stuffed  handkerchiefs  into  their  mouths. 

"  I  wonder  if  we  shall  ever  go  sword-fishing 
again !  I  'm  afraid  that  I  shall  have  to  wait  a 
long  time  before  I  can  stand  at  the  rail  of  a  two- 
master  and  look  across  a  limitless,  tossing,  rolling 
ocean.  Things  change  when  a  man  leaves  col 
lege,"  hazarded  Morley. 

"  You  were  sick  that  day,"  mused  Miss  Edith. 

"  Er  —  yes,"  said  Morley. 

Silence.  Then  a  shriek  of  delight  from  the 
Buffalo  Light  Blue  Infantry,  who  had  discovered 
in  the  visitors'  book  the  name  of  a  girl  she 
knew.  The  90th  N.  G.  I.  scratched  a  match. 

245 


The  Elder  Miss  ArcUen 


"Do  you  remember  the  old  South  Light?" 
asked  Miss  Edith. 

"  And  the  periwinkle  rocks  below  it  ?  " 

"  And  the  grizzled  old  lightkeeper  I  used  to 
sketch?" 

"And  the  lightkeeper's  little  daughter?" 

"  Yes  ;  was  n't  she  pretty  ?  Those  roguish 
eyes  and  the  sweetest  rosebud  mouth ! " 

"  I  never  thought  so,"  said  Morley. 

"  No  ?     She  told  me  you  tried  one  afternoon." 

"  I  never  did,"  said  he,  indignantly,  and  the 
clump  of  chairs  chuckled. 

More  silence,  while  Morley's  indignation 
ebbed,  and  Miss  Edith  looked  pensive,  then  — 

"I  —  do  you  want  to  know  why  I  never  did 
—  Edith?" 

"  My  name  is  Archlen." 

"  I  know  ;  but  I  can't  call  you  Archlen.  No 
one  ever  calls  a  girl  by  her  last  name  that 
way." 

"  You  know  what  I  meant." 

"  Once  you  let  me  call  you  Edith,"  whispered 
Morley. 

246 


The  Elder  Miss  ArcUen 


The  reinforcements  fixed  bayonets,  but  the 
ranks  of  the  Buffalo  Royal  Volunteers,  beyond  a 
slight  disorder,  held  fast,  and  no  command  was 
given. 

"  That  was  five  years  ago,"  said  Miss  Edith 
Archlen. 

41  What  difference  does  that  make  ?  " 

"  Five  years." 

"  And  you  don't  want  me  to  now  ?  " 

"I  hardly  think  it  best.  What  difference 
does  it  make  to  you  ?  None,  and  you  know  it. 
I  have  grown  older,  Mr.  Morley,  and  I  know 
more  than  I  once  did." 

"  And  you  think  I  don't  care,  O  '  sage '  ?  " 

With  Morley,  sarcasm  was  danger.  We  tight 
ened  our  cartridge-belts. 

"  I  know  you  don't." 

"  You  know  it,"  echoed  the  enemy,  scornfully. 
"  How  full  of  wisdom  you  have  become  !  You 
know  it !  When  I  —  ever  since  I  heard  you 
were  coming  —  have  been  plotting,  planning,  and 
scheming  to  see  something  of  you.  Why,  if  I 
don't  care,  should  I  have  twelve  dances  with 

247 


The  Elder  Miss  Archlen 


you  at  the  Senior  ?  Why  should  I  trouble  my 
self  to  take  you  to  the  Concert?  Why  did  I 
beg  for  your  company  on  the  boat  ride,  and 
why  have  I  made  numberless  minor  engage 
ments  .with  you  ?  "  Morley's  Own  were  charg 
ing,  and  I  held  my  breath  for  the  destruction 
that  was  sure  to  follow. 

There  was  a  deathly  stillness,  then  Miss 
Edith  Archlen  said,  "What  do  you  mean?  I 
have  not  a  single  dance  on  my  card  with  you. 
I  am  going  to  the  Concert  with  the  man  that 
asked  me  here.  I  am  going  to  the  boat  ride 
with  him.  On  Wednesday  evening,  I  am 
going  to  the  Masque  with  him.  He  has  made 
no  engagements  for  me  with  you,  because  — 
humiliating  as  it  is,  sir  —  you  have  not  asked 
for  them." 

"Wha-at?  You  are  joking,"  said  Morley. 
"  Oh,  you  are,  you  know !  But  I  did,  I  tell  you. 
Has  that  Kid  —  ?  Come  here,  Freshman  !  " 

The  Buffalo  Royal  Volunteers  looked  on  in 
wide  amazement,  and  the  94th  N.  G.  I.  Reserve 
wheeled  and  clattered  to  the  front  with  muskets 
248 


The  Elder  Miss  Archlen 


at  the  charge.  The  90th  N.  G.  I.  and  the  Light 
Blue  retired  from  the  field  to  the  piazza. 

"  I  am  afraid  the  end  is  near,"  said  I,  solemnly, 
for  we  had  decided  it  best  to  tell  Miss  Archlen 
all  about  our  plots. 

"  And  I  shall  be  despised,"  said  she. 

"  Hush !  "  I  replied,  "  you  probably  have  saved 
the  happiness  of  two  people's  lives." 

"But  I  don't  like  to  be  despised  by  Mr. 
Morley,"  she  observed. 

"  You  won't  be,"  said  I,  and  then,  while  the 
recording  angel  scratched  his  chin  in  perplexity, 
I  whispered  in  her  ear  that  Morley  had  wished 
to  me  last  night  that  he  had  all  those  dances 
and  other  engagements  with  her  instead  of  with 
her  sister. 

It  was  a  bold  stroke,  but  it  told,  and  it  was 
pretty  to  see  her  blush  as  I  hurried  her  out  of 
earshot,  to  save  my  lie. 

The  Freshman  told  me  afterwards  that  he 
actually  felt  sorry  for  Morley  when  he  dis 
covered  his  suicide.  Of  course  the  Freshman 

249 


The  Elder  Miss  Arcblen 


was  sorry  for  his  mistake,  and  thought  when 
Morley  said  Miss  Archlen  that  he  meant  Miss 
Archlen.  If  he  had  known,  of  course  —  and  so 
forth ;  but  that  only  made  Morley  all  the  more 
angry.  He  insisted  that  he  had  been  cheated. 
He  ranted  around  and  tore  his  hair,  and  wanted 
things  all  changed.  This  the  Freshman  regretted 
exceedingly  could  not  be  done.  He  pointed  out 
that  it  would  mix  things  all  up.  If  he  had  only 
known  before,  it  might  have  been  arranged,  but 
— .  When  Morley  asked  for  a  dance,  and  found 
Blake  had  just  taken  the  only  one  remaining  on 
the  card,  when  he  asked  if  he  might  not  go 
walking  with  her  the  next  morning,  and  remem 
bered  that  at  that  time  he  had  promised  to  go 
walking  with  her  sister,  when  he  suggested  a 
sail  on  the  following  afternoon,  and  was  re 
minded  of  his  engagement  to  inspect  the  second 
gorge,  and  when,  finally,  in  desperation  he  had 
attacked  every  flank  and  tried  every  loop-hole 
to  no  avail,  he  fell  back  upon  the  window-seat 
and  ignominiously  surrendered.  Then  he  rose, 
swore  at  the  Kid,  begged  Miss  Edith's  pardon, 
230 


The  Elder  Miss  Arcblen 


said  he  'd  been  a  fool,  shook  hands  with  them 
both,  and  excused  himself. 

Then  the  Freshman  told  the  now  thoroughly 
disorganized  Buffalo  Royal  Volunteers  all  about 
it.  He  told  her  his  fears,  his  hopes,  and  other 
things  he  felt ;  and  when  the  elder  Miss  Archlen 
and  I  returned,  the  strangest  thing  in  the  his 
tory  of  any  war  had  happened,  for  the  Buffalo 
Royal  Volunteers  had  surrendered  to  her  own 
Reserves. 

That  night  after  the  ball,  Morley  poked  his 
head  into  my  room. 

"  Billy,"  said  he,  "  you  're  a  beast." 

"Yes?"  said  I. 

"  And  I  'm  a  fool,"  said  he. 

"  Yes,"  said  I. 

"Go  to  blazes,"  he  remarked  sweetly,  and 
withdrew  grinning. 

"  Freshman,"  said  I,  to  the  sweetly  dreaming 
boy  in  bed,  "  it 's  dollars  to  doughnuts  that 
Kingsland  N.  Morley  is  married  first,"  and  he 
was  —  to  the  elder  Miss  Archlen. 


251 


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